Splintered Hearts
by Mikell
Summary: A lotus blossom takes root in the dark... and grows up toward the sun. Romance is not only for the young. It can take root and bloom in the most unexpected places... if it is given a chance to grow.   Splinter/OC
1. Prologue

**A/N: _Gomen nasi_, dear readers. I am sorry for the long delay, and for the technical difficulties that resulted in the erasure of my first author's note. :-p**

**Thanks once again to my lovely beta-readers, Melody Winters and DuckiePray. Also to FairDrea.**

**I, of course, own no rights to the TMNT or their stories. ****Thanks to the creators for allowing us to play with their toys.**

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_**~Prologue**_~

Rin Abramson leaned back in his chair and re-read the letter, running his thumb absently over the official-looking seal. He'd noticed immediately, of course, the watermark of one of New York's most prestigious and expensive law firms.

_We wish to inform you that the honorable Miyomoto Kazuo has filed a request with our office to locate his granddaughter, a one Miss Austin Abramson. Any information you might have regarding Miss Abramson's whereabouts would be greatly appreciated. Mr. Miyomoto has offered a substantial financial reward for any information leading to the location of his granddaughter. _

_It would be in Miss Abramson's best interests to contact our office immediately regarding business matters. _

_Regards,_

The Law Office of Metro and Daniels

Rin folded the letter neatly, laying it on his desk. The only outward sign of his emotions was the heavy drumming of his fingertips over the paper, and the faint scowl that creased his brow.

_So, the old fool has decided to leave his fortune to Austin, just to spite me. Overlooking his own son in favor of his granddaughter. He never did forgive me for taking an American name. Well, Father, I don't know where my wayward offspring has been living for these past five years, but I do believe it's time she came home._


	2. Chapter 1 Lullabye

**Splintered Hearts**

_**Chapter 1 ~Lullaby~**_

Slow, deep breaths. _In. Out. In. Out. _A cry from somewhere in the Lair. Whiskers trembled slightly and shadows danced in the flicker of the candle flame. His breathing deepened, slowing as he worked to concentrate. The wail grew more insistent. Splinter's whiskers twitched again as the spiritual plane seemed to move further away, leaving him feeling stretched, tired. Meditation had become more difficult, with so many distractions. It had been years… more years than he cared to consider, since small, shrill voices had echoed from the stone walls, and Splinter was certain their family was not finished growing. The thought brought a wave of joy, mixed with a hint of weariness. The children, while adored by everyone in the Clan, could be tiring at times.

_Perhaps I am getting old,_ thought Splinter, standing up with a stretch, wincing as his joints cracked. Picking up the walking stick he didn't wholly need, he made his unhurried way out into the main Lair. At the rice paper door, he paused a moment, listening.

_Kouki_. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. His grandson was quiet, much like his father had been, but when he was angry, his rage was vocal and difficult to soothe. The turtle tot was working himself into a fine voice, hitting notes that made Splinter's sensitive ears ring. Even as Splinter stepped out of his door, Bailey, Ann's dog, dove past him and took refuge in his room. The dog curled up on the tatami mat with a soft whine. Splinter glanced toward the animal but didn't bother scolding him. He sighed and made his way out to where Donatello was pacing.

"Hush, now. Please… Kouki, settle down…"

The Rat smiled at the desperation in his son's voice. Donatello was walking across the Lair, a wailing toddler cradled against his plastron, patting his shell gently and bouncing him, all to no avail.

"Perhaps I may be of assistance, Donatello?"

The young father turned suddenly, flustered. "Father! Did he disturb you? I'm sorry, Sensei. I'll take him to our room."

"No, Donatello." Splinter moved forward. "I was not disturbed."

"I just don't understand it." Donatello's bouncing was becoming more agitated, though he was controlling his frustration with an effort. Splinter nodded sympathetically. He remembered well how disconcerting a crying child could be, especially to a new, harried father, even one as used to operating on little sleep as Donatello was.

"Perhaps I might try, my son?" he suggested gently, holding out his hands.

Don looked as if his father had offered him a bottle of water on his third day in the Sahara. "Would you mind, Sensei? Ever since Beverly started working at the clinic, he just seems unhappy…"

Splinter held out his arms. Donatello peeled the still-squalling child from his shoulder, wincing a little as the open air hit the wet patch that had collected above his plastron. The Rat gathered the sniffling tot into his arms, cradling his head against his shoulder. Kouki's hand moved automatically to the soft ruff at the collar of his robe, small fingers winding contentedly into the fur, even as the child snuffled. A small face burrowed against Splinter's shoulder, and the other arm clung to his shoulder. The whimpers were muffled in his fur. The baby hiccuped once and, miraculously, the crying stopped.

Donatello stared, astounded. "How… how…"

"Shhh. He is sleeping," said Splinter softly, shifting the child so that his breathing was unobstructed. Kouki shifted the hand that wasn't clinging to Splinter's fur to his mouth, sticking his fingers in his mouth with a tiny sigh.

"Father," Donatello stared. "How… how did you _do_ that?"

Splinter smiled. "Practice, my son. Many years of practice."

"Do… do you think…" Don hesitated. "Do you think you could… watch him for a while? I have to fix Mike's shell-cell again. Skylar was chewing on it… I think the drool shorted out his screen…"

"Go," said Splinter with a smile. He made his way over to his familiar soft chair, settling down, the little boy cradled comfortably against his shoulder, his hand rubbing comforting circles against the small shell. "I always enjoy spending time with my grand children."

"_Thank_ you, Father," breathed Don, making his way with almost indecent haste toward the peace of his laboratory.

Splinter repressed the urge to chuckle. It was clear that his purple-masked son enjoyed being a father. Pride shone in his eyes as he exclaimed over Kouki's each milestone in development, each new accomplishment discussed and analyzed in detail, with Don insisting that his son was obviously a prodigy, ignoring his brothers' smirks and Mike's insistence that his _daughter_ would one day soon whoop her cousin's butt in ninja practice. Still, Kouki's response to his mother's taking a part time job was a predictably unhappy one.

With a contented sigh, Splinter leaned back in his soft chair, cuddling the babe against his shoulder. He began to croon a Japanese lullaby. Kouki sighed, snuggling against his grandfather's robe.

_Haru? Haru; Sakura, sakura, yayoi no sora wa… Miwatasu kagiri… Kasumi ka… kumo ka… Nioizo Izuru… Izaya, izaya,…Mi ni yukan… Haru ga kita, Haru ga kita:  
Sakura, sakura… _

His ears swiveled as another voice joined his, soft, almost a whisper. Splinter smiled as his daughter-in-law joined his song, her translation harmonizing with his Japanese.

_Cherry blossoms April brings… Up against the clear blue sky… Mist-like petals gently sigh… Fill the air with signs of spring… Come with me, come with me… See the sweet cherry trees bloom._

Austin came into his line of sight, smiling, as Splinter finished the song, and sank down on the couch.

_Sakura, sakura… yayoi no sora wa… Miwatasu kagiri… Kasumi ka kumo ka…  
Nioizo Izuru… Izaya, izaya… Mi ni yukan._

The woman smiled. "That was beautiful, Sensei."

"Made more beautiful by your voice, _musume._" Austin ducked her head, blushing. Splinter caught the sparkle of tears standing on her lashes. "You are troubled, Daughter?"

"No, Sensei." Austin shook her head, but she would not meet his eyes.

Splinter was used to Austin's reluctance to speak about things that were bothering her and he was more than patient enough to wait until she was ready to talk.

He had, after all, raised four sons. Donatello and Raphael, in particular, had both been less forthcoming about their troubles as they'd gotten older. It seemed ironic to Splinter that Austin had chosen his youngest, most outgoing and vocal son for her life-mate.

"How are you feeling, Sensei?" Austin's question broke Splinter out of his reminiscing.

"I am well." He repressed a sigh. Even though they were now approaching the second anniversary of his injury at Bishop's base, it seemed to Splinter that his family, the girls, in particular, were determined to coddle him. He pretended not to notice her worried scrutiny, rubbing his fingers absentmindedly over the baby's shell.

"Would you like me to take him up to Sierra before I go?" Austin persisted. He glanced at her and saw concern creasing her brow.

"There is no need, Austin-chan," said Splinter gently. "He is quite comfortable. As am I."

"But your shoulder, Sensei…"

"Austin, my daughter," Splinter held up his free hand to stop her, even as she leaned forward as if she would lift Kouki from him despite his reassurance. "I am healed. Why does my injury still trouble you so?"

He caught the wounded look that flashed through her eyes, anxiety that she could not hide, and he frowned. Austin sank back on the couch, hugging her arms across her stomach.

"Forgive me, Sensei," she whispered.

"Daughter, you have given no offense," said Splinter gently.

"_Hai_, Sensei. It's just… Ann has been ill recently, and it reminds me of when you were recovering from…" she trailed off, unwilling, it seemed, to recall the occasion aloud. The first attempt to retrieve Beverly from Bishop's base had been unsuccessful. Michelangelo and Donatello had been captured, and Splinter received a bullet wound to the shoulder. Leatherhead had carried him to safety, and later returned with Leonardo to retrieve his sons, daughter, and the unborn child she carried. Even though they were all safe now, and indeed Bishop had been quiet for so long, it seemed reasonable to hope he had perished in the destruction of his base, it seemed that Austin was troubled by the memory.

"Austin, you must not allow this incident to prey upon your mind."

"I… I know, Sensei. I'm sorry."

"Regret does not heal wounds. You must learn to live in the present." Splinter's voice came out sharper than he'd intended and Kouki stirred with a squirming whimper. Splinter patted his shell gently, soothing him. He glanced at Austin. She was staring at the floor now, flushed. Unlike his sons, she seemed to take the slightest criticism to heart.

"Austin." This time he was careful to keep his voice soft. Looking up cost her an effort, if he was any judge. "Come here, Daughter."

She moved almost cautiously, off the couch and closer, sinking to her knees next to the chair, bowing her head trustingly, a striking difference from the first time she'd knelt before him cringing, expecting death, more than five years ago now. He shifted the baby on his shoulder, and reached out with his free hand to lay it gently on her hair.

"Austin-chan." The woman's breathing hitched ever so slightly. "What troubles you, daughter?"

Austin drew a deep, shaking breath. "I was afraid," she said, finally lifting her hazel eyes to meet his. "When you were hurt. I was afraid we had lost you."

"_Musume_… I can not promise I will never leave you," said Splinter, cupping his hand against her cheek. He felt the warmth of tears against his palm as he lifted her head so she would look at him. "But you can not live in fear."

"Courage is the ability to face difficulty in spite of fear," she quoted, a faint smile crossing her features.

"Yes, Daughter." Splinter smiled, nodding.

Austin rose slowly to her feet, wiping her face. "_Hai,_ Sensei. I will… meditate on this," she said seriously.

Splinter couldn't hide a smile. Sometimes she reminded him of Leonardo when he was young. Though she was close to his sons' age, her upbringing had left her less confident in her relationship with her sensei. Still, she was learning to trust him. Splinter was gratified by the growth he saw in Austin, both in her physical skill and her confidence.

"Good." Splinter nodded. Austin gave him a short bow. She sank back down into the couch cushions, clearly more relaxed.

"Do you work tonight?" he asked, curious.

Austin smiled. "Yes. I was going to take the night off so Mike could have a night out with the others," she said, "But the Club called and the cleaner was ill, so I'll have to go in and take care of a few things so my room will be ready for tomorrow. Bev is working, and Ann's trying to catch up on her paperwork, but I think Sierra is in her room. She said she'd listen for Skylar until Mike gets home." She frowned suddenly. "Splinter, does Leo seem… different, to you?"

"How do you mean?" Splinter watched her. He _had_ noticed a difference in his son, but Austin has a unique relationship with the boys. She seemed to sense things in them. She seemed to know when Raphael would speak into an understanding ear, when Donatello needed a firm nudge toward his bed from one of his late-night work sessions, when Leonardo was brooding over a problem. Her presence in the Lair had a calming effect, which Splinter had come to appreciate. After years of raising his sons alone, the influence of their wives brought a depth to their family they hadn't known they were lacking.

"Well, he seems… I don't know…" Austin shook her head. She glanced at Splinter. "He's my _ani_, Splinter, but he's _your_ son. I hoped you could explain it to me. Did Michelangelo change this much when… when I came?" She shifted, uncomfortable memories clouding her eyes.

"Daughter," Splinter paused, choosing his words carefully. Austin's entrance into their lives had not been an easy transition. Even after her initial fear of Michelangelo's brothers had faded, and they had come to trust her, Raphael's brooding temper nearly caused a rift between the brothers, until it came to a head one night in an actual fistfight between him and Michelangelo.

"You have indeed changed my son." Austin's expression froze. She watched him with anxiety. "Change comes with growth. Kouki has changed, has he not? Skylar as well?"

Slowly, Austin nodded, a smile creeping back. "_Hai,_ Sensei," she said softly, bowing her head. "So, you think Leo is just… maturing? Because he is in love?"

"He is changing, Austin," said Splinter. "Whether it is Sierra-chan's influence, I cannot say."

_Or the influence of the book that he has become so enamored with,_ thought Splinter. _I questioned my son's choice at first, but if the tree bears good fruit, the root must be healthy._

"I… think it's a good change," said Austin slowly, considering. "He seems less… tense." She glanced shyly at Splinter.

He gave her a smile and a nod, feeling a flutter of happiness beneath his ribs when she smiled back. Another woman had smiled at him once… so many years ago.

_Teng Shin…But we must live in the present. The past is for lessons, not for living,_ he reminded himself. _If only she could see my daughters now, what a fine family my sons have made for themselves. Happiness has come to our clan. Our ancestors are honored._ He patted the tiny shell resting contentedly against his chest.

_Yes, we are indeed blessed._


	3. Chapter 2 Family

**A/N: If you haven't already, I recommend reading this series from the beginning. Meanwhile, here's an OC cheat sheet: Leonardo's wife is Sierra. No kids. Raphael's wife is Ann. No kids. Donatello's wife is Beverly. They have a son, Kouki. Mikey's married to Austin, and their daughter is Skylar. **

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**_**Chapter 2 ~Family~**_

Leonardo bunched his legs, pushing off with a familiar thrill of exhilaration. He heard Raphael land an instant after himself. Michelangelo was two or three buildings ahead, but they were gaining. The youngest turtle was wilder than usual tonight, racing ahead with whoops and catcalls.

_He'll get us spotted if he don't shut up,_ Raph had growled, but Leonardo just shook his head. Mikey'd been cooped up in the Lair every night for almost two weeks with Austin's new work schedule, caring for their daughter, Skylar. Sierra'd offered to baby-sit, but Mike took his responsibility to his family seriously.

_A little too seriously,_ thought Leo. _He's trying to prove he's mature and can handle having a wife and kid, but he has to learn balance and remember that we are a team, even as our family grows and changes. _He watched as his brother used a cable like a springboard, somersaulting to the next building and landing lightly before taking off again.

When Beverly found a job working at the local hospital, a family meeting had been called. It was decided that the new fathers should take turns babysitting on at least two to three of the nights their wives worked, so that Sierra and Splinter didn't get stuck watching the kids every night.

Sierra hadn't demurred. She loved spending time with Skylar and Kouki, but Leonardo had seen the relief in her eyes when the decision had been made. The kids were a handful. Even Splinter hadn't protested. For him, that was as good as a vote of approval.

_Sensei has never been overly demonstrative,_ thought Leo. _But it's clear he loves his grandchildren._ _Still, he's seemed a bit strained lately. Maybe I should talk to Don about adding soundproofing to his room, so the kids won't disturb him so much. They're getting older. Soon they'll be running around playing._ He winced inwardly. He remembered Michelangelo as a child and Skylar was shaping up to take after her father in many ways. _I just hope Mikey and Austin can keep up with her._

He came to a rest on the roof ledge next to his orange-banded brother, who had stopped. Michelangelo crouched, motioning to the others.

"Dude," he breathed. "Will ya lookit _that_."

"What da shell?" Raphael whispered, kneeling next to his brothers. "What're all dem Foot doin'?"

"Looks like they're unloading trucks," said Leo flatly, his eyes narrowing behind his mask. _Thirty, maybe forty. We can take them if we have to, but I'd rather not engage them without Don. We're off-balance with three instead of four._

"Whatever's in them crates, I bet it ain't good news for _us_," said Michelangelo. His hands strayed to his nunchucks. Raph's sai were already in his hands.

"Let's watch. Maybe we can see what they're up to," said Leo, wishing fervently for Donatello's long-range listening and surveillance gear. He felt as though he were missing an ear without his technologically minded brother and his brown bag of tricks.

"Watchin' ain't gonna get us nowhere, Fearless," growled Raph.

"Watching won't get our shells kicked, either," responded Leonardo in a hiss. "We're one down, don't forget. Let's not rush in."

A derisive snort from Raphael, but he subsided. They'd all become slightly more cautious lately, less likely to take foolish risks. Even Raph tended to stop and think before he rushed in, unless someone was in immediate danger. Then all bets were off.

"Those crates…" Leo frowned, leaning forward as if that would help him get a better look at the Foot, moving like silent ants through the dim glow of the streetlights. "They could be…"

"Almost _anyt'in,_ Fearless," responded Raph. "Whatdaya say we get down there and have a closer look?" His tone was even, but his grin was wolfish as he spun his sai in his wrist.

Leo hesitated. He hated to put his brothers within reach of the Foot, but they had a responsibility. As always, he had to balance the safety of the clan with their job as self-appointed crime fighters. Raphael stirred beside him.

"All right," said Leonardo, coming to a decision. "We'll go down the fire escape on the right. Mike, once we're on the ground, you and Raph get around to the other side of that building there to the east. I'll go south and try to get a look in one of those trucks."

Raph nodded. Michelangelo was nearly vibrating with nervous excitement. They slipped into the shadows, disappearing so silently they might never have been there. Leonardo nodded in satisfaction. The extra training sessions, working on their stealth skills, were paying off.

The slightest smirk crossed his face. Mikey'd been using the exercises as an excuse to slip up behind Austin, grabbing his unsuspecting wife. The first time, she'd slung him over her shoulder, throwing him into a chair, which broke under his shell, earning him a stern lecture from Donatello.

_He should know better by now. Austin's gotten stronger. She can't quite keep up with us, but she's as strong as any human I know,_ thought Leo with no small swell of pride. She still couldn't take one of the boys in a spar, Leo doubted any human could take one of them one-on-one, but she was more than a match for an average fighter.

Leonardo slipped across the alley, sticking close to the blacker shadows. His every sense was on high alert, tracking the Foot soldiers who moved past the alley, oblivious to his presence. No one spoke. They were simply taking crate after crate from the warehouse, packing it into trucks. Leo peered at the warehouse doors. The Saki Corp's familiar logo was painted clearly on the side of the building.

_So they're not robbing the place. Just moving some equipment. But why? What are they up to?_ He frowned. As another contingent of soldiers passed, he slipped out of the alley, making his way to the truck itself. One of the soldiers leaned against the passenger door. He debated knocking the man out for a moment but decided against it. No sense in attracting unnecessary attention. He frowned, squinting through the dim light. He could just make out a logo on the side of one of the crates and some lettering.

_**1-xdj**…Ok, that looks like it might be a serial number or something. It still doesn't give me a clue as to what's _in_ the boxes._

There was a shout from across the street and Leo tensed, backing up so that the guard running past him wouldn't bump into him in the dark.

_Aw, shell. I hope Mikey didn't…_ He hurried around the front of the truck. A low whistle and his eyes snapped up to the fire escape on the side of the building just ahead. His brothers were climbing. Michelangelo motioned to him. Leonardo nodded, relief flooding him. He crossed the space silently and joined his brothers on the ladder.

Silently, they made their way to the roof.

"What happened?" hissed Leonardo once they were safely on the roof. The Foot swarmed below like a disturbed ant colony.

"Raphie-boy knocked a lid off a trash-can," snickered Michelangelo, earning himself a swat from his older brother.

"I _tol'_ you, chucklehead, it was a _cat,_" growled Raph.

"_Sure_ it was, Raph," Michelangelo chortled. "A _green _cat with a big ol' thick shell…"

"Shuddup, goofball."

"Come on, let's get out of here," hissed Leo. "Before they start looking _up._"

"Ok, Fearless." Raph nodded, straightening and aiming a glare at Michelangelo who was still trying to stifle his snickers. "Mikey, if ya don't shut up, I'm gonna throw ya off da building."

Leo shook his head. Raphael had been more on-edge recently, since his wife had been ill with what seemed like a stomach flu. The longer her illness lasted, the shorter Raph's temper seemed to get.

"And make even _more_ noise, Raph?" asked Michelangelo innocently. He dodged his brother's jab, ducking to avoid a second swat. "You've gotta be quicker than that, Bro," he teased, taking off across the rooftop.

"One o' these days, I really _am_ gonna toss 'im offa building," grumbled Raph.

Leonardo hid a smile. "Come on. Let's head in. Maybe Don can hack into the Foot's files, see what they're up to."

"I still say we shoulda just busted 'em up," growled Raphael, glancing at Leo. His tone was only half as angry as it would have been just a year ago.

"Raph, you know we can't be reckless," said Leo.

"Yeah," growled Raph. "But Leo, we ain't gonna do da girls any good by bein' wimps. We can't run every time there's a fight."

"We didn't need to engage them," said Leo. The familiar tension rose in him. Deliberately he took a deep breath. _Ooto-san, help me keep my temper,_ he prayed silently.

Raph glanced at him, his amber eyes narrow behind his mask. "Whatevah, _Fearless._ If I didn't know better, I'd say you were gettin' soft."

Leo bristled. "Raph, we've got a family to think of."

"We've _always_ had a family, Leo," hissed Raphael, lowering his voice as they moved down the fire escape to ground level. "It's jus' bigger, dat's all."


	4. Chapter 3 Tea

**A/N: Yeah, a bit more family fluff... it won't all be like this, promise... I just love the way Splinter handles things, and yes it's important to the story as well. :) Bear with me dear readers, there will be plenty of action too.  
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**_**Chapter 3 ~Tea~**_

Splinter made his way slowly toward Donatello's room, careful not to jostle the sleeping toddler. Moving without sound was second nature. His ear twitched. Movement within Leonardo's quarters indicated Sierra was about to come out. Splinter was well out of the way before the door swung open. The woman stepped out, turning with a startled gasp toward the Rat.

"Oh! I'm sorry, Splinter." She lowered her voice. "I didn't hear you out here. I hope I didn't wake him."

"No, Sierra-chan," replied Splinter quietly with a smile. He was impressed once again with the woman's instincts. Most humans, his daughters-in-law included, wouldn't have noticed his presence on the narrow, shadowed balcony that led to the boys' rooms.

Sierra was far more alert and aware of her surroundings than Beverly or Ann, but so far she'd shown little interest in pursuing further training in ninjitsu, at least in front of Splinter. He was perfectly aware that she'd taken to joining Leonardo in the dojo while he practiced his early-morning katas, slipping out again before his brothers joined him for their morning sparring session, but as long as she was not interfering with his son's training, Splinter was willing to allow it to pass without comment.

"Are you putting him to bed?" Sierra asked.

"Yes. He is asleep."

"Good. It's getting late." She moved back, giving him room to pass.

"Will you join me for a cup of tea, Sierra-chan?" asked Splinter.

The woman's eyebrows rose slightly but she recovered quickly, smiling a little timidly. "I'd like that. I'll go and set the water."

"_Doomo arigatoo_… thank you, Sierra."

Sierra nodded and moved down the stairs. Splinter watched her go. A slight frown creased his brow. There was something different in Sierra, something she held apart. He sighed. The other girls had adjusted with few problems to their family. Austin had positively embraced living with her husband's brothers.

_Austin-chan was raised by a Japanese father_, Splinter reminded himself as he laid Kouki down on his plastron, covering the sleeping babe with a light blanket. _She was used to the idea of sharing a home with her extended family. Ann's determined nature helped her adjust to the clan. Even Beverly settled in after a time. Every family has times of unease. But Sierra… she is sometimes distant. She gives no cause for conflict, but she does not seem to feel as if she belongs. Perhaps I can speak to her, ease her heart in this matter. Leonardo is obviously deeply in love with her. _

Satisfied that the baby was safely asleep, Splinter made his silent way out of Donatello's room. He paused at Michelangelo's door, reassuring himself that Skylar was safely sleeping in her crib.

_The Lair is growing full,_ he thought, glancing around the small, crowded room. Michelangelo's art desk had been pushed over into a tight corner to make room for Skylar's crib. Only a narrow space remained between the crib and the queen-sized bed. Splinter smiled, shaking his head. Austin has been more successful in training Michelangelo to keep his space organized than Splinter or his brothers had been.

Splinter suspected that Skylar's growing mobility had contributed to her father's newfound organizational skills. It didn't take Mike long to discover that leaving a comic book or drawing within his daughter's reach would result in its destruction. Still… the children were growing. The Rat sighed. He knew it was only a matter of time before they would need to consider the alternatives to their current living arrangement.

_My sons are growing. It is not fair of me to hope they will never leave home… leave one another. And yet our safety has always depended on them being a team. _

Pulling the door closed all but a few inches, Splinter turned and made his way down the stairs toward the main part of the Lair. He could smell the tea already steeping in the kitchen. He deliberately tapped his walking stick against the concrete floor as he entered the kitchen, but he needn't have bothered. Sierra was standing near the counter, facing the door, as if watching for him. He bowed his head slightly in greeting and tried a smile, hoping to set the young woman at ease.

Sierra turned, picking up the small ceramic teapot and carefully pouring two small cups. Splinter noticed that she remained slightly turned, as if to keep him in her line of sight. He moved slowly to the table, having noticed that sudden movements tended to startle Sierra and make her nervous.

The woman brought the cups over, setting Splinter's carefully down before taking a seat herself. She leaned her elbows on the table, cradling the handle-less cup in both hands as if to warm her fingers. She watched Splinter with fathomless green eyes, waiting for him to take a sip before she tasted her own tea.

"Ah," Splinter sighed appreciatively. "I thank you, _musume._"

"You're very welcome," said Sierra with a faint smile. She hesitated a moment. "Splinter?"

"Yes?"

"I've been meaning to ask you… what… what does '_musume_' mean, exactly?" she asked, sounding almost shy.

Splinter smiled. "It is Japanese for 'my daughter'," he explained.

Sierra looked startled. A faint blush crept up her cheeks. For a moment Splinter was afraid he'd offended the woman, but then a smile quirked her lips.

"I am," she seemed to be considering her words. "Honored, Sir, that you consider me like a daughter."

"The honor is mine, Sierra-chan," Splinter replied.

Sierra's pleased smile remained in place, lending her a sense of calm. Splinter sipped his tea, choosing his next words carefully.

"Leonardo tells me you have applied for a job," he said.

Sierra nodded, her smile fading as she ducked her head. "Yes, Sir. The studio had to fill my position when I was… injured," she answered. "I've been looking for another position teaching dance for a while now, but the competition is strong. I was lucky to find another studio looking for a children's dance instructor."

"I am sure you will make a fine teacher," said Splinter mildly.

_Why does the subject trouble her? She was relaxed only a moment ago._

"Kouki and Skylar appreciate your company," he remarked, thinking how well-suited she was to teaching children.

A flash of genuine happiness crossed Sierra's face. "I am so blessed," she said. "To have such a lovely niece and nephew to play with. My job will be in the mornings, so I'll still be able to help with the babysitting in the evening. Don't worry, I'll still do my share."

"Is that what has been troubling you, Daughter?" asked Splinter gently. "Do you feel you must earn your place in this Clan?"

Sierra glanced at him, startled. "I… well, yes Splinter. I mean, everyone contributes. I guess you have to, in a family this big. Everyone needs to pitch in. I…" She gazed into her teacup as if it were the most fascinating thing in the world. "I've been sort of floating, this past year… I'm healed now. I just want to do my share."

"_Musume_." Splinter reached out and grasped her hand in his own. The woman twitched. She looked up at him, a faint trace of apprehension touching her features. "Family is more than a team," he said gently. "We work together because we must, in order to stay together. We stay together because we choose to do so. Are you happy here with my son?"

"Yes, Splinter. More than I ever thought possible." Her fingers trembled under his.

"Sierra-chan, you need not worry so. Your contribution is appreciated, but it is not the value you bring to the clan. Your value is in the joy your presence brings to this family. Do not confuse your worth to the family with your ability to serve us, Daughter."

The woman met Splinter's eyes. Her gaze was still troubled. "I… don't feel as though I fit in," she said. "I mean, the others are all… Oh, I don't know." She took her hand back, wrapping her fingers around the teacup once more.

"Austin… she's so skilled," she said. "And Beverly, she has medical knowledge. Even Ann, she's been invaluable to your family, with her legal contacts. What can I do, Splinter? I guess…" She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I guess I feel that if I can work, if I can do enough around here and maybe contribute a little income to the budget, maybe I can make Leo proud of me." The last came out as nearly a whisper.

Splinter shook his head. "Has Leonardo given you reason to feel he is not proud of you, Sierra-chan?" he asked. "Does he seem unhappy to you?"

Sierra's brow creased in thought. "N-o, I guess not," she said finally. "He… he seems happy."

"Then why do you allow these thoughts to trouble you, daughter?"

"I'm sorry," the woman responded. Her shoulders hunched and she drew the teacup closer as if it were the only source of warmth in the room. "I don't mean to dump all this on you."

"_Musume_, these ears are always open," said Splinter gently.

Sierra glanced at him and smiled. "I can see why Leonardo admires you so much," she said. "You're a very wise person, Master Splinter."

"Wisdom is only experience tempered with time," he responded.

"May… may I ask you something?" she asked.

"Certainly."

"The way you lost your Master, Yoshi…" Sierra hesitated. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to pry."

"The loss of my Master is an old wound," said Splinter calmly. "Long healed."

The woman turned in her chair to face him, setting the cup down on the table and meeting his gaze steadily now. "Forgive me for asking, but… Leonardo said you… you felt responsible for not being able to defend him."

Slowly, Splinter nodded. "In my… original form, I was far too small and weak to protect my master."

"Then, maybe you can understand…" She drew a deep, shuddering breath. "I… I wasn't able to protect Hayley." She met his eyes. Splinter was startled at the depth of pain and turmoil he saw reflecting in her gaze. "Most of the time, I'm… I'm ok, you know?" Tears formed, sliding down her cheeks. She didn't bother to blink them away. "But sometimes, being here with your family, spending time with Skylar and Kouki… I'm reminded that I allowed my baby girl to die, and… and I don't feel worthy… I don't feel as if I deserve, to be this happy. Does that make sense?"

"Sierra-chan." Splinter stood and went to her, reaching out to lay his hands on her shoulders. The woman tensed, watching him almost warily. Splinter shook his head. "_Musume_, do you not trust me?" he scolded gently.

Sierra blushed. "I… I trust you, Sir."

"Then heed my words, Daughter. You were not to blame for the death of your child. This Derrick Jonstone who was your husband, he was not an honorable man." The faintest of growls slipped into Splinter's voice. "You must not hold to this burden, Sierra. You must not carry this. Does your God not forgive?"

Sierra's eyes went wide at that. She met his eyes and held his gaze steadily for the first time since Splinter had met her. After a moment, he nodded.

"Leonardo has spoken to me of your faith," he explained gently. "Daughter, all fathers care for their children."

The tears ran down her face unchecked now, but her green eyes didn't waver.

"But, Leo…" she whispered.

"Leonardo _loves_ you, Sierra-chan," said Splinter firmly. "He does not blame you for your past. The past is for learning, not for living. You must stop blaming yourself."

The room was silent and still for a long, drawn out moment before Sierra slid forward, out of the chair, sinking to her knees. Her arms came around Splinter, and she buried her face in his shoulder just as his sons had done when they were small. His hand came up automatically to stroke the back of her head tenderly. She shook, clinging to him, the tangy scent of tears mixing with her naturally pleasant, sweet scent.

"Sierra-chan," said Splinter gently. "You are a part of this family now. Accept your place."

"Yes, Splinter. Thank you." She released the embrace and sat back on her knees, her hands dropping to her lap. She drew a slow, shuddering breath, as if trying to compose herself.

Splinter reached out, touching the woman's tear-soaked face and cupping her chin with his hand. "You carry too great a burden for one so young," he told her. "Sierra-chan, it is time to let the happier memories of your daughter lighten your grief. Honor her life by remembering the joy she brought you."

"You're right," she said. When she looked up again, a new peace seemed to have settled on her features. "You're absolutely right, Splinter. Thank you… Father."

Splinter reached out, drawing the young woman close. This time she leaned into him, relaxed and welcoming, accepting his embrace.

"You are most welcome."


	5. Chapter 4 Shards

**Chapter 4 ~_Shards~_**

Donatello fumbled with the soldering iron, dropping the tool as his brother's _whoop_ shattered his concentration.

"_Michelangelo_," he muttered, massaging his temples. He picked up the iron before it could burn a hole in his already-worn desktop, examining the circuit board he'd been working on for damage. To his relief, the solder hadn't pooled on the delicate connection. Slowly, Don pushed his chair back and got to his feet.

_Please don't wake Kouki… please don't wake Kouki…_

Whatever entity looks over mutated Turtle ninjas seemed to be listening with a benevolent ear, because as Don reached the door, he heard Raphael's hand meet the back of Michelangelo's head with a familiar soft _slap_, and a hissed conversation among his brothers.

"_Shut it, Mikey."_

"_What, Raph? What'd I do?"_

"_Yer gonna wake da kids!"_

"Oh, yeah, sorry. Well watch out you don't bump any more…" _Slap!_

Mikey's yelp of protest was muted this time, undoubtedly muffled by a brotherly hand. Don made his way out of the lab. He couldn't suppress a grin at the scene. Leonardo was between Mike and Raph, one hand clamped over Mike's mouth, the other on Raphael's plastron, separating the two.

"Will you two knock it off? If you wake Kouki he'll start howling and even Don can't calm him down. Bev won't be home for another hour. Do you really want to listen to a crying baby that long?" scolded Leo.

"It's ok Leo. Splinter got him down a couple hours ago," said Don, sauntering out of the lab. "He should be pretty soundly asleep by now."

Leonardo nodded. "Great, Bro. Where's Sierra?"

"I think she went up to your room," said Don. "She was having tea with Sensei earlier…" he trailed off. When he'd gone to the kitchen to top off his coffee, Sierra'd been crying, clinging to Splinter. Don had withdrawn silently, unwilling to intrude. Whatever Splinter had been discussing with Sierra, he hoped she was all right now. Leonardo tended to be protective of his bride.

Leo nodded. To Don's relief, he didn't seem to notice his discomfort with the subject. "Donny, can you go into the Foot's computer system and check for any unusual activity?"

"Sure, Bro." Donatello felt the familiar tingle of tension across his shoulders. Any Foot activity tended to bode poorly for the Turtles and their clan. "What am I looking for exactly?"

"Anything unusual. Transactions, deliveries, that sort of thing," said Leonardo. "We saw them moving a large number of crates tonight from a warehouse. I want to know what they're up to."

"Crates? Did you get a look at the contents?"

"No." Leo scowled.

Raphael shifted uncomfortably, and Donatello smirked. Suddenly Mikey's jibe about not knocking things over made sense.

"Somebody blew your cover huh?" Raph glared at him, but Donatello kept his expression carefully nonchalant. Michelangelo nearly crowed with delight.

"Yeah, Raphy knocked over a garbage can," he chortled.

Donatello heard the distinct sound of the elevator door opening, and raised a hand to stop Michelangelo's chatter, but Mike kept right on going.

"Of course we were up the fire escape before those Foot ninjas got anywhere near us…"

"You fought the Foot?" Austin stepped into the room, her eyebrows rising. Don groaned inwardly.

"Oh, hey babe," Michelangelo looked markedly like a deer caught in the headlights.

"How many were there? Why'd you engage them, with only three of you? Was anyone hurt?" Austin crossed the room to her husband, running her hands down his biceps, checking anxiously for injuries.

"Austin, relax," Raphael intervened gruffly. "Da Chuckle-head here is fine. We all are. We didn't even fight 'em. Fearless thought we oughta play it safe." The sneer in his voice was faint. Even Raph knew better than to imply to any of their wives that fighting was a better option than avoiding a battle.

"Well, as long as you're all right," said Austin slowly. She rested her hands on Mike's shoulders. "Did you guys have a good night?" she asked, leaning in for a kiss. Michelangelo's arms snaked around her waist and he drew her close to him with a contented smile.

"Yep. Until Raphy here knocked over a trashcan…" He trailed off at Raphael's warning growl, glancing at his brother with a cheeky grin. "Don't worry, Babe. We ninja'd our way outta there. They never even knew we were there. How about you, did you have a good night at the Club?"

Austin sighed, leaning into Mike and resting her cheek against his shoulder. Don shook his head and started for the kitchen. Mike and Austin were in their own little world now. For a while at least, the rest of them might as well not exist. He suppressed a smile. _I guess Bev and I are just as bad,_ he thought.

"Don, as soon as you can on that, ok?" called Leo.

Donatello nodded, waving his hand absently. "Yeah, Leo, let me just top off my coffee."

Moving back toward his lab with a fresh cup of coffee in hand, he was startled to hear a quiet sob come from Austin. She was still leaning against Mikey, clinging to him. Her shoulders were shaking. Mike was leaning close to her ear, speaking softly.

"Is everything ok, Bro?" asked Don. He hated seeing Austin cry. He enjoyed a closer relationship with Austin than his other sisters in law.

Mike shot him a rather helpless look. "She got a letter," he explained quietly. "It's her mom. She's sick."

Austin pulled away from her husband, wiping at the tears streaming down her face and sniffing. "My mother… she's dying. She wants to see me," she explained, her voice remarkably steady despite the tears standing in her eyes.

"Oh, Austin, I'm so sorry," said Don. He set his coffee down on the table and wrapped her up in a hug.

"I can't go," whispered Austin against Don's plastron. "I can't…"

"Austin, it's your mom," said Mike quietly, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Honey, I can take care of Skylar, and I know you can get time off from the Club…"

"She abandoned me!" Austin let go of Don and whirled to face her husband, fury flaring. "She left me with my father and I never saw her again."

"I know," said Mike. "But Austin…" He drew a deep breath. "I just think… if you don't go, I don't want you to regret it, you know?"

"Do you think I should go, Don?" Austin turned to her brother in law, her face a picture of misery and confusion.

"Well, I…" Donatello shook his head. "Austin, I don't know. I mean, Mike's probably right. If you don't go, you might regret it."

Austin's shoulders slumped. She looked defeated, trapped… Don felt a squeeze in his chest. She looked exactly the same way years ago, right after Michelangelo ran from the Lair after discovering her past as a Foot soldier.

"Austin…" he stepped forward, touching her shoulder tentatively. "You don't have to decide tonight, _imouto-chan_. Why don't you guys go and get some rest? Maybe you can talk to Splinter about it in the morning."

"That's a good idea, Austin," said Mikey, gently pulling her into an embrace. "Let's sleep on it, ok? You don't hafta decide anything now."

"Ok."

Don watched as the couple made their way up the stairs to their room. He shook his head. _Imagine, after all these years, hearing from her mom, and finding out she's dying. No wonder she's so upset. It's a lot to take in all at once. _

Settling in his chair, he powered up the computer and connected to the internet. Don's fingers fairly flew over the keys as he found his way expertly past the Foot's security protocols and into the inner sanctum of Saki Corp's business dealings. Don smiled grimly as he met a tougher-than usual firewall.

_For every fortress there's a back door… or in this case a trap door,_ he thought. With a few clicks, he'd bypassed the security measures. _What's this?_ _A personal file. Well, Mr. Masaru, I seem to remember you being Karai's second in command. Perhaps you've entered something in your journal that will save me a few hours of searching for unusual activity in Saki Corp's files._

Donatello clicked expertly past the password protections and soon had Masaru's personal log open. _Easy as opening a fortune cookie,_ thought Don. He scanned the record.

_Fools! All of them are fools. Karai had two more high-ranking soldiers executed today. She's been in a foul mood recently. I nearly lost my own head yesterday, for a moment's lack of attention. The nightmares are growing worse. It's the fault of that bastard brat… Oh Kasumi! If only you'd chosen me over that fool Aiko. _I_ still live, while he fell to the kame demon's blade. _

Donatello blinked. _Aiko? Is that the name of the soldier Leo stabbed when we rescued Sierra? But who is Kasumi? That's a girl's name if I recall my Japanese correctly._

He shook his head. Leo could not see this. He'd finally recovered from the deep depression he'd fallen into after the man's death, but it had taken Leo himself nearly dying, and the acceptance of forgiveness through a faith Donatello didn't completely understand, for it to happen. Don was grateful for his brother's newfound peace, and he wasn't about to allow any whisper of the past to disrupt it. Frowning, he read on.

_You could have lived in the style you were accustomed to, and accompanied me when I flee to Japan to begin a new life. I would even have accepted the brat as my own, raised him. But no, you chose to follow that fool into death, and I will leave alone. _

_I will pay a final visit to the orphanage, my dear Kasumi. The boy has lived thus far because of my misguided affection for you, but I fear I cannot leave him alive. He is a loose end, one which could trip me, I know it. I thought my revenge would be complete, sending him to that run-down excuse for a children's home, to those vile people who call themselves caretakers, but his face still haunts my dreams… his eyes… your eyes._

_I am sorry Kasumi, but in less than a week's time, your little Isamu will die by my hand, and perhaps then I will be free of you._

Donatello sat back, feeling sick to his stomach. He checked the date of the entry. Yesterday. The boy would die within days.

_But what can I do?_ He massaged his temples with one hand as an argument raged in his mind.

_He's Kouki's age._

_He's not our concern!_

_Leo killed his father._

_In defense… He was hurting Sierra…_

Donatello reached absentmindedly for his coffee. Taking a sip, he stared at the screen, outwardly calm and inwardly at war with himself.

_I don't even know where the child is._

_It wouldn't be hard to find out._

The sound of the elevator doors opening again provided a weak, but welcome excuse for Don to turn off the monitor and make his way out to the main Lair. Beverly came into the room, sifting through the enormous bag she carried over her shoulder. Her hair was disheveled and her shoulders slumped with fatigue.

"Bev? Is everything all right?" Don came to her, concerned. She pulled a packet of aspirin out of her purse and dropped the bag on the couch. She didn't answer right away, concentrating instead on prying open the packet. Don noticed her hands were shaking. He crossed the living area and took her hands gently in his own.

"_Sai-ai _Beverly," he whispered. "Let me help."

Bev held on to the packet for an instant before relinquishing it to him. Don peeled back the foil and tipped the pills into her waiting palm. She swallowed them without the benefit of water. Donatello laid his hands on her shoulders, much as Austin had done with Michelangelo earlier, and began massaging the stiff muscles. Beverly stood tensely for a moment before relaxing against him. Her arms came around his shell in a tight hug. Don waited. He knew from experience she would speak when she was ready.

A whimper sounded, and Don tensed. _Kouki… please, not now._

The rising wail brought a chuckle from Beverly. "It's ok, Donny-san," she whispered against him. "I'll get him." She released her hug and leaned in to kiss him.

Don held her a moment longer, unwilling to let her go, but Kouki's insistent cry grew louder and Bev withdrew with a smile.

He sighed. "I'll come up with you."

Beverly nodded and the couple made their way up the stairs to their room. Kouki was on his shell, squirming uncomfortably and kicking, howling at the top of his lungs. Bev moved across the room, scooping up the fussing baby and cuddling him close to her. Kouki's fingers wound into a bit of her hair that had come loose. He stuffed the fingers of his free hand into his mouth. Blessed silence settled once more.

Donatello shook his head. "How do you _do_ that?" he asked in a sort of awe.

Beverly gave him a grin. "It's a mom thing."

Don stood, watching his wife and sleeping son.

_The boy will die…_ Rage rose up in him.

_Not if I can help it,_ he thought. _Isamu may be the offspring of the Foot Clan, but he's an innocent. I'll find a way to save him, if I can._


	6. Chapter 5 Restless

**A/N: I admittedly did some bouncing between POV's in this chapter, which is something I normally try to avoid. Lots of fluff for all... because the trouble is going to start heating up really soon. I marked the POV changes with dividers because Fanfic tends to remove any artificial dividers we use, asterisks etc. :-p Silly filters.  
**

**

* * *

Chapter 5 ~_Restless_~**

Splinter lay on his thickly padded mat, but sleep eluded him. He rolled over, tugging the soft fleece his daughters had bought him for Christmas more closely around his shoulders. He'd been honored by the gift. The girls had searched out a tightly woven material that would not collect clumps of the fur he occasionally shed. He'd found that regular brushing, along with a thorough twice-weekly bath, kept the problem to a minimum. Beverly had even researched shampoos and conditioners to find which ones would not irritate his sensitive skin. Splinter smiled in the dark. His daughters were attentive in ways that never occurred to his sons to be, though he knew any of them would sacrifice their very lives for him, for any of their small but growing clan.

Life was pleasantly different with four women living in the Lair, but Splinter felt a growing restlessness.

_Perhaps I have been a warrior for too long,_ he thought, a tinge of sadness creeping into his mind. 

_For so many years my only focus was to seek vengeance for my master's death. Now, so many new possibilities are open to my sons, to our family. Children… grandchildren! So why is my spirit so restless? I should be happy for them. Perhaps I am simply growing weary of being underground. Tomorrow, when my sons venture forth, I will join them. It has been too long since I tested my skills outside the dojo. Training is only beneficial if it is put into practice. Yes. I will join my sons 'topside' as they call it. The exercise will do me good._

_

* * *

_

Leonardo entered the room he shared with Sierra silently. His wife's quiet, steady breathing told him she was already asleep. He carefully slid his katana from his back, removing them from their sheathes to stand them in their place of honor, in a specially-made rack on the low table along one wall. The rack had been a gift from Sierra at Christmas. She'd presented it to him with shy excitement, and Leonardo remembered how tears gathered in his eyes as she explained how she'd enlisted Raphael's help to carve the intricate holder.

Michelangelo had drawn the katakana symbols for the seven core teachings of Bushido onto the sides, and Sierra had engraved them herself, following Mike's lines with painstaking precision. Austin, with help from Donatello's research, had provided the proper fine felt to line the holder with, the perfect material to cradle his carefully honed blades without dulling their deadly edge. Even Beverly and Ann had helped with the hours of sanding necessary to bring the wood to a fine sheen.

He reached out, brushing one finger over the curve of the rack and smiled, pride and love for his family swelling in his chest. He turned to gaze at Sierra. He felt he could never grow tired of simply watching her sleep. She lay on her side, facing toward him, one hand curled against her cheek, her ebony hair cascading around her shoulders, framing her face in wild ringlets. Leo approached the bed on cat's-feet, and lowered himself beside her, careful not to wake his sleeping wife. He slid one arm under her pillow, moving like a whisper to cradle her head on his shoulder and settling in with the faintest sigh of contentment. Intoxicated by her scent, he leaned in to nuzzle her forehead. She shivered, shifting in her sleep, a faint moan escaping her.

"Shhhh, _itoshi_, it's just me," he whispered into her hair.

"Mm." She snuggled closer, her hand coming up to brush his bridge and grasp the edge of his shell like a child clutching her teddy bear. She nestled against the hollow just above his collarbone, her breath soft and warm against his shoulder.

Leonardo closed his eyes, content to lie and drift to sleep, his wife snuggled safely in his arms.

* * *

"Yer still up, Annie?" Raphael frowned, walking into the room he shared with his wife.

"Oh! Raph… What time is it?" Ann turned from the desk that took up most of one wall in the room. Papers were spread from one end to the other, and several intimidating-looking legal books were open in front of her. "I didn't even hear you guys come in."

"So I see." He smirked leaning against the doorframe. Ann's hair had come unpinned, and it hung in wisps around her face. She arched her back, stretching, unconsciously making Raphael's heart beat faster. In two steps, he was across the small space, scooping her up out of the chair.

"What are you doing?" she gasped, swatting at his arm.

"Ya need ta go to bed, Annie. It's four AM. Ya ain't been feelin' well fer a couple o' weeks now, an' yer tired," he growled softly, carrying her unceremoniously across the room.

"I've got to file this deposition in the morning," she protested, pushing against his plastron. "Raphael, put me down!"

He just smirked, lowering her to their bed. He leaned over, one arm on either side of her, trapping her. She glared up at him, but the telltale tug at the corners of her mouth spoiled her attempt at looking angry. Raph leaned down, capturing her in a deep kiss.

"Yer comin' to bed, Annie," he whispered against the skin of her neck.

She shivered. "Ok."

* * *

"I haven't seen her in almost twenty years, Mike," Austin whispered. Her fingers traced his plastron plates absently. "I wouldn't even know what to say to her."

"Austin, what happened? I mean, she just up and left you? Why would she do that?" Mikey tightened his hold around his wife's shoulders, drawing her closer. She sighed, shifting. She was half-lying across his chest, her cheek resting against his shoulder, her head tucked under his chin. He felt hot tears tracing along his neck where her face rested against him and he squirmed, cuddling her closer.

"She… couldn't stand Father anymore, I guess," said Austin softly. "He… wasn't easy to live with."

"He was pretty hard on you, huh?" Mike asked, lifting his hand to stroke her hair.

"He was very stern. I mean, Splinter's strict, but… he's different. Warmer, somehow. My father was cold. He never hugged us. Never _touched_ me, except to help me perfect a kata, and then only to show me what I was doing wrong."

"Wow, Austin, that's rough," whispered Mike. His heart felt as if it would crack in two. He remembered the picture he'd seen of Austin, the one with her mother. Her smile shone out of the picture, happiness written clearly on her face. "What about your Mom? What was she like?"

"Mom was _fun_," said Austin softly. "She was like a butterfly, always flitting from one thing to the next. Not like Father at all. Even Grandfather liked her… The only time I ever saw him smile is when she was there. She would interrupt my lessons to take me for ice cream. We would sit at a fountain in Central Park to eat it, watching people."

Mike felt her smile against his skin.

"Wow, she sounds great," he said softly, brushing her hair back away from her face and tucking it gently behind her ear.

"She was." Austin's fingers found the edge of Mike's plastron, and she stroked the sensitive skin, making him shiver. "Until I was seven. Then one day when I came down for breakfast, she just… wasn't there. She wasn't at the table. Father didn't say a word, just drank his coffee and told me to go into the dojo for my morning training."

"She didn't even tell you she was leaving?" Mike was incredulous.

"No. I didn't know what had happened to her for almost two years," whispered Austin. "Then one day I was at home. Father had been called to the office quite suddenly, so I was left with the maid. I knew she was busy upstairs, so when the phone rang, I picked it up. I wasn't supposed to answer the phone." Her voice broke and Michelangelo felt her shoulders tense under his arm. "It was her," whispered Austin. "She… she told me she'd been trying to call, but Father wouldn't let her talk to me. She begged me to meet her in Central Park, at the fountain, the next day. She said she'd come for me at ten o'clock. I… I didn't answer. I was scared. I hadn't seen her in almost two years… I suppose I was angry with her as well…"

"What happened?" asked Mike softly.

"I… I hung up on her," said Austin. "And… I… I almost went to the park, but when it came down to it… I stood by the front door for a while. I even had my suitcase packed. But I wasn't allowed to go to the park alone. I wasn't allowed to leave the _house_ alone. I knew Father would be upset with me if I went, and I wasn't even sure she'd show up. So… I didn't go."

"So you never saw your Mom again, huh?" Mike wrapped his arms more firmly around his wife's shoulders.

"No." Her body shook, trembling against him as sobs welled up, spilling over.

"Aww, Austin," whispered Michelangelo. "You were just a kid. It's ok. Splinter says the past is for learning, not living."

"I… I know," she whispered. "Your dad is the greatest."

"He is, isn't he?" Mike grinned. "And he loves you, you know that, right?"

"I… I guess so," she whispered, sniffing.

"He does. And so do I." He lifted his free hand to stroke her cheek, wiping the tears away. "Always."

Michelangelo slipped out of bed. Austin had been crying for a long time, but she'd finally drifted off into a restless sleep. Mike had never felt so helpless, so frustrated.

_She's my best friend,_ he thought, tucking the blankets in around her. _I wanna make her feel better, but I dunno how._ Austin shifted in her sleep, sighing and snuggling into his pillow, but didn't wake. _Don't worry, Austin. It's gonna be ok. I'll find a way to _make_ it ok._

Mike stole out of the room, making his way down to the lower level. Spotting a light from under his brother's door, he shook his head with a grin.

_Might as well see what Donny's up to,_ he thought.

"Hey, Donatello."

Don's reaction to the cheerful greeting was unusual to say the least. He jerked back, reaching automatically to switch off the monitor.

"Don't _do_ that, Mike," snapped Donatello, relaxing slightly at the sight of his orange-banded brother leaning nonchalantly against the doorframe.

"Whatcha doin', Donny?" Mike's grin grew. "Lookin' at some _special_ websites?"

"Don't be so childish, Michelangelo," Don sighed. "I was doing some research Leo asked for."

"Then why all the secrecy, Donny-boy?" asked Mike, smelling an opportunity to tease his brother. Don's grim look wiped the smile from his face. "Hey, what's up, Don? You look like you just discovered the Shredder's coming back again."

"Don't even _joke_ about that, Mikey," Don answered sharply. He sighed, wiping a weary hand over his face. "Listen, I found something in the Foot's computers, and…" he hesitated.

"What's up, Bro?" asked Michelangelo, coming into the room to perch on the stool next to Don's computer.

Donatello sighed, and turned back to his desk, clicking the monitor back on. "I've found Masaru's personal log," he explained.

Mikey glanced at the screen without much interest. "So, that's like Karai's second in command, right? An' you found his diary? So what? What're the Foot up to this time?"

"Do you remember the guy Leo killed?"

"Duh, Donny."

"He had a son."

Michelangelo blinked. "_Duuuude._ You ain't gonna tell Leo about this, are you?"

"Of course not, Mikey." Donatello was scrolling through the text. "But… Well, read this."

"What?" Michelangelo peered at the screen.

"This section right here."

…_The boy will die…_

"So, what're we gonna do?" Michelangelo sat back, looking expectantly at his brother.

"I… I don't know if we should do anything," said Donatello slowly. "Mike, this is Foot business…"

Michelangelo rolled his eyes. "Right, Donny. You're just gonna sit back an' let the little dude get murdered? Bro, I know you better than that. What's the plan? What're we gonna do?"

Donatello looked at his younger brother. Mike was watching him with a serious, intent look.

"Well, I thought, you know, two of us could get in, get the boy, and get out, pretty easily. We don't have much time. We'll have to go tomorrow night. I thought, once we have the boy, maybe April can help us find a place for him…"

"I'm in, Donny." Mike held out his fist.

Don grinned, bumping it with his own, a gesture they hadn't shared since they were teenagers.

"Brothers forever," he murmured.

"You got it, Bro."


	7. Chapter 6 Aunt Luci

**Chapter 6 ~_Aunt Luci_~**

Lucille Marie Chesney unfolded the map, laying it over the steering wheel of the rental car. She sighed, following a green line with her finger.

_Or am I supposed to follow this red line? I _knew_ I should've listened to Janey and hired a taxi, but it was so expensive, and it's so much nicer to see a place for yourself. I just didn't expect the city to be so _big_._ _Well, if I go along here to this West Fifth Street, it should take me down to Eastman Boulevard, and the Club isn't much further beyond Laird Avenue. What unusual street names. Well, I suppose in a city this large, they run out of names after a while._

Satisfied that she had a reasonable idea now of where she was going, Lucille waited for a break in traffic so that she could pull out. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, she shot out into a narrow space between cars with an expertise that would've done credit to a native New Yorker. She drove ten blocks down, turning onto a quiet residential street.

"So this is where Austin is working now," she muttered aloud to herself, pulling into a parking space. She climbed out of the car, careful to lock it behind her. She looked around with interest, noticing a couple of teenagers lounging near the front door of the Club. One had brown hair buzzed close on the sides and curling over his scalp on top, and wore a black tee-shirt with a cartoon character making a rude gesture on the front. The other sported a lime-green mohawk and wore a less aggressive white tee shirt and denim shorts. She approached them confidently.

"Can either of you tell me if this is the Boys and Girls Club?" she inquired politely.

The boy with the brown hair looked at her as if she'd requested his opinion on a pending alien invasion.

"Yo, Gramma, do we look like a map ta you?"

Lucille smiled, meeting the boy's hazel eyes directly.

"You look like someone who knows the neighborhood," she said pleasantly.

He shifted, uncomfortable. "Yeah, dat's da place," he pointed. His friend snickered.

Lucille ignored him. "Thank you, young man." She walked smartly past him and headed into the building.

"Yo, man, why'd ya led dat ol' lady dis you like dat?" asked the green-haired youth, laughing.

"Shut up. She reminds me of my gran," snapped the first boy.

Lucille made her way to a desk. A bored teenager leaned back in a rolling chair, snapping her gum.

"Ya gotta sign in," drawled the girl. "Membership costs thirty dollars a month, or ya can pay by the year. Day pass is ten bucks. We don't take no checks."

"Oh that's very nice," said Lucille, smiling. "But I'm not here to buy a membership. I'm here to visit my niece, Austin. Austin Abramson."

"We ain't got no Abramson here," said the girl.

Lucille's heart sank. She had the wrong place. She noticed a plastic tag hanging from a lanyard around the girl's neck that read _Tammy._

"Well, Tammy, let me confirm that I do have the right building. This is the Boys and Girls Club of Lower Manhattan, isn't it?"

"Yeah. Dat's us."

Lucille nodded. "It's quite urgent that I reach my niece. Her mother, my sister, has become ill. She's been trying to reach Austin, but the number she had for her is no longer in service."

_And her landlord says she let her lease go five years ago, but if I mention how long it's been since I had any idea where she is, you're not very likely to give me more information, are you?_

"Sorry, Lady, I can't help ya," Tammy snapped her gum.

"Can you at least tell me how long ago she stopped working here?"

"I didn't say she left," said Tammy, flashing a secretive grin. "I said we ain't got no Abramson here."

"Hmm, I see." Lucille watched the girl, considering. It was obvious she was withholding information, but perhaps the right question… or the right _lever_, could unlock her lips.

"Perhaps if I…" Lucille reached into her purse, rummaging. "It's not a very good picture," she said apologetically. "Well, actually it's a lovely picture, but it's not recent I'm afraid. Do you have anyone here who looks like this?" She pulled a snapshot of Austin out of her purse, holding it out to the smirking girl.

Recognition flickered in Tammy's eyes, and she glanced uncertainly at Lucille.

"I ain't supposed to give out personal information," she said.

Lucille briefly considered offering the girl a small monetary 'gift' in return for further information, but she found the idea of a bribe distasteful, aside from the issue of her limited funds.

_Perhaps a different tact..._

"Tammy." Lucille met the girl's eyes steadily. "Austin's mother, my sister, is dying. She doesn't have a lot of time left. It's… She closed her eyes briefly. "It's lymphoma. A very aggressive cancer. The doctors say she could live a month, or a week. There's really no way to tell. It's _urgent_ that I reach Austin. This may be her last chance to see her mother."

"If she wanted ta see her, she'd call 'r something, wouldn't she?" remarked Tammy, her brow creasing slightly. She was looking at Lucille suspiciously now.

"Sometimes families… Well, sometimes _people_ make mistakes," said Lucille sadly. "My sister made a mistake, many years ago. She just wants a chance to rectify it before… She wants to see her daughter again. Look, Tammy, if I could just leave a message for Austin. I'm not asking you to give out any information, just take my number here in the city. Give it to her. Please."

"I tol' you, we ain't got no Abramson here," said Tammy firmly, leaning back and crossing her arms over her chest. "An' even if we _did_, maybe dis girl don't want people findin' her, ya know?"

"I see." Lucille sighed. Defeat seemed to weigh her down. "Well, in case… I'll just… leave this." She pulled a pad of paper out of her purse and scribbled her cell phone number down. "I don't know where I'm staying yet," she said softly. "I'm going to get a hotel. I'll only be in town for a few days. Maybe… Austin will change her mind."

"I tol' ya, Lady," Tammy began, scowling, but a door opened behind her, and Lucille didn't hear anything else the girl said.

Austin stepped out, looking much as she had fifteen years earlier, when Lucille had last seen the girl. She'd aged, of course. She was taller, more muscular, having grown into the young woman who was just a promise the last time Lucille'd seen her.

"Tammy, I've got to run home for a minute between classes, but I'll be back for my seven thirty…" She stopped short, spotting Lucille, who was still standing beside the desk, the slip of paper in her hand.

"Austin." Tears filled Lucille's eyes. "Oh, Austin…" There was so much she wanted to say, so many regrets, but the words caught in her throat.

"Aunt _Luci_? How… what are… what are you doing here?" Austin stared as if she'd seen a ghost.

"I… wanted to find you," said Lucille, finding her voice. "For Janey… Oh Austin…"

Austin half-flew around the desk, wrapping Lucille up in a crushing hug. "Aunt Luci… I… I can't believe you're here."

Lucille's arms went around the girl. She was shocked to find Austin's lithe frame shaking as she clung to her aunt. "There, child, it's all right," soothed Luci gently.

"I've missed you so much." Austin sniffed, releasing her and straightening. She glanced at Tammy, whose jaw seemed to have come unhinged. She was staring as if she'd never seen anything quite like Austin before in her life.

"I… I'm sorry." A blush crept up the young woman's cheeks. "Tammy, this is my Aunt, Lucille. I… I haven't seen her in a really long time." She grasped Lucille's hand, as if afraid to let her go.

"It's nice ta meet ya," said Tammy, gathering her wits. "I… I'm sorry, Mrs. Hamato, I didn't know… I mean, usually you tell me not ta give out any information, so I tol' her ya didn't work here…" She had the good grace to look embarrassed.

"It's ok, Tammy, you did the right thing," said Austin. "Thank you. Aunt Luci, why don't we go get a cup of coffee?"

"That would be lovely, dear, but didn't I hear you say you need to go home?"

"Oh! Oh… well." Austin's laugh was strained. "It… it can wait. I'll just need to make a phone call."

"Of course, dear, whatever you want," said Lucille. "But if you'd like, I can drive you home. I rented a car."

"No!" Austin's refusal was so sharp it made Lucille blink. The girl's face showed alarm for an instant before a carefully controlled expression fell over it like a mask. "No," she said more quietly. "I'm sorry, Aunt Luci, but I'll just call. I… I want to spend some time with you. Mike can handle things at home." The last she said half to herself. "Please, excuse me for just a moment."

Austin pulled an oddly shaped cell phone out of her pocket. Lucille blinked when she saw the cover. It seemed to be shaped like a small turtle-shell, with a pink scalloped edge.

_They do make some odd covers for cell phones these days,_ she thought, amused.

"Hi Honey… Yes, I just finished my shift... No, actually, that's why I'm calling… I'm not going to come down just yet. No, everything's fine, really. Well, my aunt is here… Yes, really." Austin grinned.

Lucille smiled, watching the way Austin's eyes glowed. It was obvious she was very close to whoever was on the other end of the line.

"No, my mom's sister, Lucille. Listen, I'll tell you all about it when I come home tonight, ok? What? No, I didn't know you and Don were going out. What time are you leaving?" Austin frowned. "Did you let Leo know what you're doing?… Mike, what are you two up to?" There was a long pause.

"Are you sure? … Well, as long as you're careful. I'm sure Skylar will be fine with Sierra... Yes, honey, of course I trust you. … Oh for… Yes, _you_ are the Battle Nexus Champion, I know." Austin smothered a giggle with her hand. "Just be safe, ok? … I love you too." She snapped the phone closed.

"Sorry about that. He worries," she said softly.

"I'd… like to meet him," said Lucille gently.

Austin twitched slightly, glancing at her aunt. "I, um… Well…" Her gaze flickered to Tammy, who was watching the entire exchange as if mesmerized.

"Umm, well, let's go and get that coffee, ok, Aunt Luci?" said Austin.

"All right, Dear."

_Hmm, she doesn't want me to meet her young man? Why on earth not? Could this have something to do with why she hasn't answered Janey's letter?_

Austin led the way down the sidewalk. She chattered nervously, asking Lucille about her trip.

"The traffic was horrendous, coming across the George Washington Bridge," said Lucille. "And these drivers in the city! I didn't expect it to be so… big. It is a lovely place, though. So many lights, and so many friendly people!"

Austin chuckled. "Well, there are a few good ones," she said.

"It's very different from New Jersey," said Lucille.

Austin laughed out loud then. "I don't know, Aunt Luci. I think the drivers are just as bad there as in the city."

Lucille smiled. "Well, I can't argue with that, but Austin…" She hesitated, unwilling to upset her niece. Austin was so tense, Lucille felt as if she might bolt, like a startled wild thing, if she said the wrong thing. "Austin, your mother…"

Austin's breathing hitched. "I can't go, Aunt Luci."

"But Janey…"

Austin held up one hand. "Please, Aunt Luci. It's so great to see you. Please, don't make this harder than it already is. I _can't_ go. I… I have my own family now." She pushed the door open of a small café tucked along one of the side streets around the corner from the Club. Lucille stepped inside, and Austin moved to a small table in the corner with the familiarity of a regular.

Lucille sank into the booth, waiting until Austin was seated as well. The girl was avoiding her eyes. She rested her elbows on the table, clasping her hands together.

"Austin, I understand how you must feel," said Lucille gently. "You know Janey never wanted to leave you, don't you? Darling, she loves you."

"I… I know, Aunt Luci. But…" Austin looked up. "The fact is, she _did_ leave me. Seeing her now isn't going to change the past."

"You can't change the past, but you can choose your future," said Lucille.

Austin blinked. "The past is for learning, not living," she murmured before focusing on Lucille's hopeful face. "You don't understand. I _can't_. Aunt Luci, I… I just can't."

"Is it your job, Dear? You can't take time off? Surely they'll make an exception…"

"It's not that." Austin made a frustrated gesture with her hands. "It's… complicated."

"Austin." Lucille stared at her niece, trying to puzzle out what was going through the young woman's mind. True, Janey hadn't seen her daughter in years, but Lucille remembered her as a dear, sweet little thing who laughed easily and adored her flighty mother.

"Won't your husband let you go? I know it's presumptuous of me to ask this of you after all these years, but it seems my finding you so quickly, it's providence. Janey… She wants to see you, Austin. She _needs_ to see you. Please. For my sake, if not hers. We're the only family she has left. I thought family would still mean something to you."

Austin's hazel eyes snapped to her aunt's face. Hurt, anger and fear mixed, giving her a haunted expression.

"Family is everything to me. Aunt Luci, I know you don't understand. I'm sorry. I just… I can't leave."

"What on earth could be more important than seeing your mother?"

The girl shook her head sadly. "My daughter. I can't leave her. She's too little for me to be away. I'm sorry. I… I wish I could go, but I just… I can't."

"Well, for goodnessakes, bring her with you!" Lucille almost laughed with relief. "Austin, child, you know your little girl would be welcome. Janey will be so thrilled! A granddaughter! Oh, I can't wait to meet her… how old is she?"

"I'm… I'm afraid that won't be possible." Austin stood up. "I'm sorry, Aunt Luci. I have to go now. It was good to see you again. Tell Mom… Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her… I love her."

Before her shocked aunt could respond, she turned and walked away.


	8. Chapter 7 Surveillance

**A/N: Who says Splinter's old? Not this little Author! :)**

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Chapter 7 ~_Surveillance_~**

Splinter paced across the Lair with a sense of purpose. He could hear the faint rustle of leather against tatami mats as Leonardo stretched in the dojo, running through a few last-minute exercises before he headed topside for the nightly patrol. Raphael was coming out of his room, as at ease and contented as a cat who'd recently had fresh cream.

_Ann's day in court must have gone well_, thought Splinter with satisfaction. He was nearly as proud of his brilliant daughter-in-law as he was of his own genius son. The woman seemed a good match for Raphael, even if Splinter would not have guessed the two of them would be compatible.

Donatello and Michelangelo came out of the lab as Splinter entered the main room of the Lair, conversing quietly, as thick as thieves. Splinter felt a prickle of unease. When the boys were small, they occasionally conspired in mischief together. Some of his most memorable moments as a father came about from Donatello and Michelangelo's antics. The pair was unmatched in the creation of chaos.

"My sons. Do you not plan to wait for your brothers?" Splinter asked mildly. His two youngest sons turned to face him, varying degrees of alarm and embarrassment showing clearly in the gazes that met his own.

"Hey, Sensei." Michelangelo gave him a little wave.

"Good evening, Master." Donatello was more formal. He shifted, adjusting the strap of the duffle bag already slung over his shell. "We, that is, Mikey and I… we're going out together tonight. I have some… surveillance to complete, and Mike's going to give me a hand."

Splinter nodded, accepting his son's explanation, but there was something Donatello wasn't telling him, he could sense it.

_What are you up to, my sons?_

He resolved not to press the matter for now. His sons were no longer teenagers. If they were hiding something, it was for a good reason and would reveal itself soon enough.

"I intend to accompany you boys on your patrol tonight," said Splinter calmly, watching for a reaction from his two youngest. There was a flash in Michelangelo's blue eyes that might have been dismay, but the Turtle covered it well.

"Sure, Sensei," said Michelangelo easily, earning him a dark look from his brother. "But Donny's stuff is real boring, ya know? You sure you're up for all this techno-stuff?"

_Marriage has at last taught you the skill of misdirection_, thought Splinter. He hid an amused smile.

"Perhaps I will accompany your brothers tonight," he said carefully.

He could almost feel the relief radiating off Donatello.

"That's great, Sensei. It would be good for you to get out. Just don't overexert yourself," said Don.

Splinter bristled slightly, and his son flushed.

"Uh, I umm… I mean… it's a warm night," Donatello faltered. "Too much exercise…"

"Oh, Donny, look at the time," Michelangelo piped up, interrupting Donatello's stammered explanation. "We'd better get going."

"What? Oh! Yeah, we'd better. Have a good night, Sensei." Don bowed hastily.

"May the fates be kind to you as well, my sons," said Splinter a bit stiffly.

Michelangelo and Donatello beat a hasty retreat out of the Lair. Splinter's whiskers twitched with annoyance as he heard Michelangelo's guffaw echo off the walls of the elevator before the stone doors could slide completely closed.

_Perhaps it is time I rejoined the morning trainings,_ thought Splinter. _The boys are old enough now to not require my presence, but they have perhaps forgotten that there is life in this old Rat's body still. Hmm, yes, it would be good for Donatello to spar with me as we did when my sons were younger, to test the mettle of his training and reassure him that his father has not yet lost his skill._

"Good evening, Sensei." Leonardo's quiet greeting broke into Splinter's train of thought. He turned with a smile.

"Hello, my son. Are you prepared to go out?"

"_Hai_, Sensei." Leonardo smiled. "Austin is working again this evening, so Sierra offered to take care of Skylar. Beverly will be home as well. Ann is planning an early night. This court case has kept her up late so often recently, she needs the sleep."

"Very well, my son."

"Are you ready to go, Father?"

Splinter nodded, and Leonardo smiled.

"Good. Raph and I were talking earlier. We'd like to revisit the warehouse, snoop around a bit, and see if the Foot left any clues as to what they might've been up to."

"Ya ready ta go, Fearless?" Raphael strode into the main room. His shoulder muscles rippled, bunching under his skin. His feral grin radiated anticipation. "I'm itchin' ta bust some heads."

"Easy, Raph," said Leo, but he was smiling. "It's just a reconnaissance mission, remember?"

"Whatevah. Jus' show me da goons, Leo. I'll take care o' da rest." Raphael's grin widened. "So yer really comin' wit' us, Father?"

"Yes, my son." Splinter's grin mirrored Raphael's. "I need the exercise."

Leonardo looked from one to the other, his eyes widening slightly behind his mask. "Am I going to have to separate you two?" he mocked.

Splinter gave him the look that deserved, and Raphael chuckled.

"Come on, Fearless. Ya've gotta admit we haven't seen a lot of action lately. It's time we showed Sensei a good time. You heard him, he needs the exercise."

"Ok, ok." Leonardo held up his hands in mock defeat. "Tell you what. We'll recon the warehouse, and then, if we have time, we'll patrol a little further into PD territory, ok? We're not _looking_ for a fight," he gave his brother a meaningful look. "But maybe there will be some activity that needs… looking into. Fair enough?"

Raphael's smirk grew. "Sounds good ta me."

Splinter nodded. "Lead the way, my son."

He followed his two sons as they moved, silent as shadows, out of the warehouse and onto the rooftop. The moon peered weakly through the clouds at the three wraiths making their swift way across the gravel roofs, leaping over obstacles like children let loose on a playground.

First Raphael would get ahead, then Leonardo would gain ground on his brother, passing him with a graceful flip, but Splinter noticed how they kept him between themselves. He admired their subtlety grudgingly. They weren't overtly protecting him, but he could feel their eyes on him nonetheless as they raced across the rooftops, watching to be sure he landed safely from his own leaps, and making sure he was keeping up with their speed.

Splinter was sorely tempted to disappear into the night, to turn the tables on his protective sons and make a game of stalking them, as he often had when they were in their late teens, to hone their skills and keep them alert, but he refrained. Leonardo's mission was the top priority… for now.

"That next building, that's where they were," said Leonardo softly, coming along side his father. They came to a halt at the building's ledge, kneeling behind it. Splinter breathed deeply of the night air. His senses were more alert than they'd been in a long time, his awareness felt sharper, stimulated by the sights, sounds, and dangers of the world above their peaceful home.

"I'd like to get inside," said Leonardo, keeping his voice just above a whisper. Raphael knelt casually on Splinter's other side. His amber eyes were glued to the building.

"There's a window, Fearless, in the upper east corner. We can climb in from da roof, no problems."

"Let's be sure the place isn't occupied first, Raph," said Leonardo grimly.

"Leonardo, it would be possible for me to access the small vent on the roof, there," said Splinter, pointing. "I would be able to sense the presence of any humans within."

Leo glanced at his father, startled.

"Do you think that's a good idea, Sensei? I think we should stick together…"

"Relax, Fearless," growled Raphael, irritated. "It ain't like we're gonna storm da place. Geez."

Leonardo flushed, glancing at Splinter. "I just thought…"

"There is vigor in this old body yet, my son," said Splinter dryly.

"_Hai,_ Sensei."

Splinter didn't wait for further instructions. He set off along the inside of the ledge toward the corner of the building, his claws silent on the tarpaper roof. He was tempted to walk along the top of the ledge itself, a feat he could perform easily, but decided it would be merely showing off. Reaching his destination, he pulled a small grapple gun from under his cloak.

One of Donatello's more ingenious devices, it was light enough to be concealed upon his person, and yet powerful enough to serve the purpose. Taking careful aim, Splinter shot the small hook across the space, being sure to secure the thin cable before testing his weight. Without so much as a glance toward his sons who were making their own way across the space by use of the fire escape and alley, he ran nimbly across, landing without a sound on the roof of the warehouse.

He heard the faintest of sounds, indicating his sons were ascending the ladder to the building he was currently on. Confident they could handle the climb to the window Raphael had pointed out, he headed for the vent.

Nothing moved as Splinter removed the vent hood, peering down through the unmoving blades of a large fan. He could just make out shapes in the semi-dark, large crates draped with tarps, making their outlines blur. He smelled no human presence. Nothing so much as stirred. The warehouse was empty.

Splinter frowned. Something… He sniffed. There was something… familiar, about the faint, sharp scent wafting up to him. Cautiously, he replaced the vent cover and made his way to the edge of the building. He dropped down so silently onto the fire escape where Raphael and Leonardo waited, he actually heard Leonardo draw a sharp breath.

Stifling a chuckle, Splinter motioned with one hand. "It is empty," he said. "No humans inhabit this place."

"Are you sure, Sensei?" Leonardo's brow creased. "Only two nights ago the place was crawling with Foot…"

_Do you doubt me, my son?_ Splinter stifled his irritation. "No one is here now."

"All right." Leonardo nodded. "Let's move in."

Raphael was at the window, climbing through, before Leo had finished speaking. Splinter saw Leonardo shake his head at his brother's impulsiveness, but he moved forward, right behind his son. The need for action, for a _challenge_, was making it difficult to contain himself. He took a deep, steadying breath, centering himself again. It would never do to rush into a mission like a half-trained _genin_.

"You comin', Master? We can climb down dis pipe."

The way Raphael looked at him when he grasped the pipe made the statement not quite a question. Splinter smiled, nodding. Raphael shot him a grin and slid down the pipe, stopping at the bottom to see that the Rat could actually scurry down. Splinter managed the minor obstacle without difficulty. He moved into the room, sniffing cautiously, every sense on alert.

_Dust… oil… diesel fuel…_

"Trucks have been used here recently," he murmured.

"Yes, Father," said Leonardo, landing lightly. "We saw them loading equipment."

Splinter nodded, ignoring the slightly patronizing tone. "Many men," he said, moving toward a shrouded crate. He touched the tarp, finding it free of dust. "But what were they moving?"

"I dunno, Sensei, but they sure seem ta have a lot of paper," growled Raphael. He was leaning over a crate, the pried-off lid set aside. "Leo, ya evah see paper like dis?" The red-banded Turtle held up a sheet of paper, rubbing it between his fingers. "Almos' feels like cloth."

Leonardo shook his head. "Take it. Maybe Don can find out something."

"We're takin' a piece o' _paper?_" Raphael snorted, but he tucked a folded sheet into his belt. "Whatevah."

Splinter sniffed, moving cautiously among the crates. If he was any judge of scent, most of the crates held the odd paper Raphael had found. He detected the light smell of a finer machine oil, and caught another whiff of that strangely familiar, sharp, metallic scent.

_Ink!_ It came to him in the same instant as Leonardo's sharp hiss.

"Someone's coming."

In an instant, there was no sign that three ninjas occupied the space. Splinter crouched in a black corner beside one of the crates. He could sense his sons not far away, each having chosen a crevice among the stacked boxes, easily defensible and allowing themselves a quick escape route. Splinter smiled grimly in the dark. Pride for his son's training and skill rose up in him, warming his chest, even as the warehouse door swung open and a flashlight beam cut through the room.

"I don't see anything," a voice hissed. "Probably just a pigeon setting off the roof alarm again."

"I'm telling you, that vent was _loose_," growled a second voice. "If anything else goes wrong this week, Mistress Karai will have our _heads._"

"And I'm telling _you_ there's nothing there," responded the first voice firmly. "Those Turtles haven't come near this operation. Anyway, they might be watching. You know how they are. If they see us guarding this place too heavily, they'll _know_ something's up, and they'll interfere just for the sake of disrupting Karai's plans. Trust me. No one's here, and we'd better make ourselves scarce before we draw attention to this place."

"I guess you're right. Let's get out of here."

The door slid closed. Small movement at his side had Splinter turning. _The roof was rigged with an alarm. It never occurred to me. I should have considered the possibility,_ he thought

Leonardo's voice was tight. "I think we've found all we can for tonight."

"Yes, my son," said Splinter quietly.

No one referred to his setting off the alarm. One by one, they climbed back up the pipe, slipping out of the window, and disappearing into the night.


	9. Chapter 8 Compassion

**Chapter 8 ~_Compassion_~**

Incense smoke curled in tiny wisps, disappearing into a faint fog hovering above the flickering light of the candles. Splinter strove to center his energy, but peace was fleeting, curling away from him like the smoke, and hovering just out of his reach.

_Age comes to us all. The time comes to allow a younger generation to fight. A time comes when one must accept the aging of one's body, the loss of skills, which were so natural. Even training the mind and body cannot stave off the advancement of time. The mind must compensate when the body grows older. I must focus my meditation…_

Focus, however, was not easy to find. The scene on the rooftop played over and over in Splinter's mind. The vent hood, lifted so carefully and set down with absolute silence. The strange, sharp smell which lingered at the edge of his memory…

_Ink… what could they be doing with ink? What new threat is this? Will my sons be facing yet another battle? And will they find they are able to face Karai and her clan without the aid of their father? What place have I in this clan? If I am no longer able to fight… if I am a danger to my sons in battle, what use am I to the family?_

Splinter drew in a deep, cleansing breath, releasing it slowly.

_Such thoughts are foolishness,_ he reassured himself. _I must not allow self-pity to gain a hold in my heart. I must recognize my error and move on, as I have tried to train my sons to do._

The faintest sound at the door alerted Splinter to the presence of his third son before Donatello's soft knock sounded.

"Enter." Splinter spoke automatically, relief and satisfaction washing over him. His sons had always called upon him for wisdom, to help them sort out what was troubling them. Their family dynamic had changed, in the past five years with the addition of four women and the children, but though new bonds had been forged, the old ones remained stable, supporting the little clan like the girders of a bridge.

Donatello slipped into Splinter's quarters, sliding the rice-paper door closed behind him. He approached the low table, and knelt, bowing his head respectfully to his father.

"Good evening, Donatello," said Splinter.

"Good evening, Father."

Splinter waited. Don's shoulders were slightly hunched with suppressed tension, and Splinter could hear the unnaturally quick quality of his breathing. Something was distressing his son, but the Rat knew from long experience that Donatello would speak when he was ready, and prying only caused him to withdraw further into his emotional shell.

He didn't have to wait long.

"Father." Don hesitated.

"Speak, my son." Splinter prompted gently.

Still the Turtle paused. He cleared his throat, fidgeting slightly. "I… I'm afraid this is difficult."

Splinter repressed a sigh. Whatever Donatello and Michelangelo had discovered, it had left his son distressed.

"Donatello, you know these ears are open."

"Yes, Father." Donatello drew a deep breath. "It's… about Leonardo, Father."

"Yes?"

"Father, the man Leonardo… The Foot soldier…"

"The man who died in the battle with the Foot," Splinter supplied. "At Leonardo's blade. What about him?"

"I… Well, Leo asked me to do some research… to look into the Foot's recent activities," Don went on haltingly. "I… I found some… disturbing information, Father."

"And have you discussed this with your brother?" asked Splinter.

"No, Sensei."

"Yet you wish to share it with me?"

"Yes, Sensei." Donatello's brown eyes came up to meet his father's gaze. "I… I need advice, Father. I… Michelangelo and I… it has to so with our mission last night."

Splinter was shocked at the turmoil he saw in his usually-peaceful son's eyes. Anguish, grief, and a smoldering depth of rage sparked in his gaze.

"Go on."

"Father, the man, Aiko… he… he had a son." Splinter drew a sharp breath, but didn't interrupt. The words were flowing from Donatello now like water released from a dam. "His name is Isamu. He's a little older than Kouki. When Leo… When Aiko died, the boy's mother was grief stricken. She… she committed suicide, leaving the boy an orphan. Masaru… that's Karai's second in command… Apparently he loved the woman, and hated Aiko for having her. He abandoned the infant at a local children's home."

Donatello closed his eyes, visibly gathering the strength to go on.

"Father, Leonardo asked me to research the Foot's current activities. I found an entry in Masaru's private file. He intends to murder the child. Mikey and I went out last night to see if we could locate him. I had an idea we would be able to stop this."

Donatello trailed off, swallowing hard.

"Was your mission successful, my son?" asked Splinter quietly. A cold knot had settled in the pit of his stomach. The terrible things humans could do to one another no longer surprised him, but the thought of a child, murdered in cold blood…

"Yes, Sensei. That is, we… we found the child. But…"

"What is it, Donatello?"

"Sensei… I thought, if we could keep him alive… I had no idea…" The Turtle's distress was more apparent now. "This place… Sensei, it's…" He paused. "They are mistreating him, Father."

Splinter sucked in a sharp breath. He knew, for Donatello to be this upset, that what he'd witnessed must have been unpleasant in the extreme.

Donatello rushed on, as if afraid to give his father a chance to intercede. "I've already spoken to April, Father. She knows a young couple who've been trying to have a baby for years… She thinks they would be willing to adopt him. All we'd have to do is take the child from this… this _home_," Don nearly spat the word, as if it tasted bad in his mouth. "I could take him to April, Father. He could have a chance… a family, people to love him."

"You fear for the child?" Splinter probed gently.

"Father… He can't be more than two," Don's voice cracked. "Just a little older than Kouki. The woman… I could hear her shouting from the roof. When we observed her through the window…"

Splinter was startled to see a darkening stain around his son's eyes.

"Father, I saw her strike him. He was crying, and she slapped him across the face so that he fell… It was all I could do to keep Michelangelo from going in."

"You fear for his safety."

"Yes, Father."

Don was quivering with tension.

"My son… what is it that you wish to ask of me?"

Splinter had the feeling he knew why Donatello had come to him, but he wanted to be sure.

"I… I wish to ask your permission to help this child, Father. I can't go to Leonardo. Mike and I can handle it, Leo never has to know. He's found peace… I don't want to disturb it… I don't to risk… That is…" Donatello trailed off, avoiding Splinter's eyes.

"You fear for your brother's balance of mind?" asked Splinter quietly.

"Yes, Father." Don still wouldn't look his father in the eye. "Leo has come so far in the past year. If he learned about the boy… I'm afraid it could cause his depression to come back."

"I believe you are underestimating your brother's strength," said Splinter gently. When Donatello started to protest, he lifted his hand to silence him.

"However, I believe that retrieving the child is something you and Michelangelo can achieve unaided. When do you plan to go?"

"Tomorrow night." Donatello finally met Splinter's gaze, his relief showing clearly.

"All right, my son."

Don started to nod his thanks, but Splinter held up his hand once more.

"Once the child is safe, I feel we must discuss this with your brother." He could see the shocked refusal forming in Donatello's eyes.

"My son," said Splinter gently. "The path to true peace can only be illuminated by the light of truth. It would be unwise to keep this from Leonardo. Such secrets can divide a family."

Don ducked his head, giving a short nod.

"_Hai,_ Sensei."

He rose slowly to his feet, turning to go.

"Donatello."

"Yes, Father?"

"There is, perhaps, another with whom you should discuss your plans."

"You mean Beverly?"

"Yes, my son. Have you told her of your intentions?"

"Yes, Father." Don sounded almost shy. "She was the one who insisted I talk to you."

The Rat chuckled. "Good. And she is agreed to this course of action?"

"She was… reluctant, at first," admitted Don. "But when I told her what Mike and I saw, she agreed that we could not allow the child to come to harm. Not when it's with in our power to help him."

"Your wife is compassionate," said Splinter approvingly. "Beverly-chan is a gentle soul."

"Yes." Donatello flushed with pleasure.

"You are fortunate in your choice of life-mate," said Splinter mildly. "Now, go, and prepare yourselves for your mission. I request that you meditate on the best way to reveal this to Leonardo."

"_Hai_, Sensei."

Splinter nodded a dismissal, and Donatello disappeared through the door. His step was lighter, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

Still kneeling at his table, Splinter smiled. Compassion was a trait he prized in his sons. The harsh necessities of their forced isolation, the strict training, had made him fear creating warriors without sympathy, ninjas who would strike hard and fade away without thought for the pain they inflicted, but that had not come to pass. While Leonardo and Raphael had each gone through periods of anger so deep and vast Splinter feared they might lose their very spirits to it, his sons had retained a caring, an empathy that tempered justice with mercy.

_Donatello is right to try to protect his brother,_ thought Splinter. _I only hope his compassion for Leonardo's feelings do not cause more harm. If Leonardo feels we have gone behind his back, only anger can result. But if Donatello is able to save this child, Leonardo must see that the greater good is being served. _

The candlelight flickered, as if a breath of air had moved in the room, but all was silent and still. Splinter closed his eyes once more, seeking peace. Unexpectedly, a pair of almond eyes swam into his mental sight. A gentle smile reached out to him across decades.

_Tang Shen._ He had not thought of the name in so long, but in that instant he could feel the touch of her fingers on the back of his neck as if he were still a "normal" rat cradled in her hand, nibbling at a bit of _kabu_** as she stroked his ears.

Splinter shivered involuntarily in the warmth of his room. The memory faded, leaving only the weight of his robe against the back of his neck and shoulders.

Feeling drained and strangely tired, Splinter opened his eyes. He leaned forward to pinch out the candles before making his way to his mat and lying down. He lay for a long time in the dark before he was able, finally, to find the peaceful oblivion of sleep.

* * *

**_kabu_ is a sort of Japanese turnip, traditionally used in soups and salads.


	10. Chapter 9 Sparring

**Chapter 9 ~_Sparring_~**

Michelangelo's feet made no sound on the tatami mats. He crept across the springy surface, sneaking up on his quarry with a wide grin. He was within inches of his prize when his prey suddenly turned, catching his wrist and heaving him off his feet with a agile throw. Mike landed hard on his shell, shockwaves vibrating through his limbs.

"Oooow!" he whined. "How'd ya know I was there?"

"Michelangelo. You had enough onions on that hoagie to choke a horse," answered Austin with a grin. She reached down to grasp his wrist. "I could smell you from across the dojo."

Michelangelo chuckled, rocking forward to half-sit up, and giving her arm a tug so that his wife tumbled into his lap. She landed lightly, laughing, and wound her arms around his neck, leaning into his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" she asked, smiling.

"Just gettin' snuggly with the prettiest girl in town," he answered, nuzzling her hair. "Mmm, you smell good."

"Better than your breath I hope."

"Aww, come on, honey, don'tcha want a kiss?" Mikey made smooching noises, and Austin leaned back, wrinkling her nose.

"Eeew, Mike!"

He tightened his arms around her, drawing her closer, but her nimble fingers found the sensitive place where his bridge and plastron met, wriggling, and he squirmed, trying to evade her tickling even as he moved in for a kiss.

Finally the tickling became too much and he had to abandon his direct attack, going instead for a return-fire strategy. Finding her ribs with one hand, he gave her tickle for tickle until she was gasping with giggles.

"Ok, ok, I give," she cried between fits of laughter.

"Ha! I, Michelangelo, Battle Nexus Champion, reign supreme!" he crowed, pumping his fists in the air.

While Michelangelo was distracted, Austin launched herself forward, grabbing his wrists and knocking him backward onto his shell once more. She planted her knees on his chest.

"_Now_ who's the champion?" she asked, smirking.

Michelangelo wriggled, intending to throw her off and reverse the pin, when she leaned forward and planted a deep kiss on his mouth. Moving languorously, she trailed her lips along his jaw, snuggling into his neck and kissing the sensitive hollow of his throat. Mike shivered, suppressing a moan.

"That's cheating," he protested half-heartedly.

"No," said Austin, leaning back a little. "It's using my ninja skills of misdirection." She grinned impishly.

"You're turning into a _kunoichi_," grumbled Mike.

"Splinter says a true ninja uses _all_ their skills," she retorted. "Can I help it if I'm just good at some things?"

Michelangelo chuckled. "As long as you only use those skills on _me,_ Babe."

"Of course. I think Sierra would object if I tried kissing Leo during a spar."

There was a guffaw from the doorway, and Austin's head snapped up, her face going scarlet. Michelangelo tilted his head back for a rather awkward upside-down view of his brother. Raphael was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest.

"Is dis a private fight, or can anyone join?" asked Raph, leering.

Austin shook her head. She got gracefully to her feet and brushed imaginary dust from her gi. "Sorry, Raph," she said. "You're too late. Michelangelo has already won."

Raphael laughed. "Dat's ok, Sis. I was t'inkin, though, maybe you could give Annie some tips. I wouldn't mind sparrin' wit' my wife, if dis is how you girls fight."

"Yep, I married a ninja," said Mikey, bouncing to his feet. "'Cause she's got epic _skillz_."

"You keep talkin' like dat, and she'll kick your shell just fer bein' a doofus."

Austin hooked her arm through Michelangelo's elbow. "Come on," she said with a grin. "Why don't we go check on Skylar. Unless of course you want to spar with your brother."

"Uh, no, that's ok," said Michelangelo hastily. "I think I've been thrown on my shell enough for one day."

"Good choice, little brother." Raphael smirked. "I'm gonna work wit' my bag fer a while anyway."

"You do that, Raph."

Michelangelo grinned widely as Austin led him out of the dojo. "You know Skylar just went to sleep, Babe. She'll be out for a couple hours…"

Austin's lips curved in a secret smile. "I know."

* * *

Much later that evening, the Lair was quiet, still, as if waiting for night to fully blanket the city, releasing the Turtles to roam it's protective shadows. The sounds of Raphael abusing his punching bag had ceased almost an hour ago. The omnipresent clicking of Donatello's fingers over the computer keys was missing, and Leonardo and Sierra had retired to their quarters. Michelangelo breathed a contented sigh. Austin's fingers traced the center seam of his plastron. Skylar had worn herself out with an active day, and the couple was enjoying a rare moment of peace.

"So, you never told me, how'd it go with your aunt," asked Mike softly. "Are ya gonna see your mom?"

Under his arm, tension rippled through Austin's shoulders. She snuggled closer, nuzzling her face into the hollow above his collar bone.

"That good, huh?" Michelangelo reached over to brush his free hand against her hair. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

She sniffed. "No… yes… Oh, I don't know. I mean, seeing Aunt Luci again after all these years… Oh Mike. You'd love her. She's so… so fun. And sensible. Not like Mom. Aunt Luci was always the practical one, the one who made sure things got done. Sometimes I think Dad married the wrong sister."

"Nah." Mike ran his fingers through Austin's brown hair, letting the strands run against the back of his hand. "'Cause you wouldn't have been who you are, if he'd married your aunt. You're you because of who your mom was, too."

"I know." She pressed closer as if seeking warmth. "I just… It was so hard seeing her, Mike, and knowing she'll never get to hold Skylar, never got to meet _you_…"

"Why not?"

"Mike." Austin smiled against him. "Leo'd never approve. It's ok. I knew what I was getting into when I married you. I knew what I was giving up."

"Austin, I never said you had to give up your family," said Michelangelo quietly. "You don't have to cut yourself off because of me."

"I'm not," she protested, lifting her head to gaze into his eyes. "Michelangelo, I know you didn't… It's just…" She drew a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "Any family that you can't be a part of, I don't _want_ to be a part of," she said softly. "I can't risk the safety of the Clan by telling Aunt Luci about you and Skylar."

"Are you sure?" Michelangelo asked seriously. "I mean, if your aunt's as cool as you say she is… I think she'd understand. Austin… She's _family_."

"Mike…"

He shook his head, cupping his hand against her cheek. "I'm just sayin', Austin, maybe you oughta give 'er a chance."

"You… you would be ok with my telling her about us? About Skylar?" Tears filled Austin's hazel eyes.

"If you trust her, so do I," said Mike firmly. "Austin, you said yourself, this might be the last chance you get to see your mom. I… I don't want to be the one who keeps you from doin' that. Whatever it takes, Babe, you know I'm there for you."

"I… well, maybe I could meet her… I mean, she asked to meet Skylar," said Austin slowly. Michelangelo felt her shiver. "Would you really come with me? I mean, revealing yourself to a stranger, it's always risky…"

"Of course, Babe. But this isn't some random stranger. This is your aunt. It's cool."

"We could meet in Central Park," said Austin slowly. "When I take Skylar out tomorrow night."

"Tomorrow night?" Michelangelo tensed slightly. When Austin met his eyes questioningly, he shook his head, softening it with a small smile.

"Sorry. It's just that I promised to go with Donny tomorrow night," he said softly. "We're gonna go back to the children's home."

"So soon?"

"Don thinks Masaru might try for him soon," he explained gently. "Besides, if you coulda seen this place… The way they were treatin' him… It ain't no place for the little dude. It just ain't right. I'm sorry, Austin, but I promised Donny…"

"Mike, it's _ok_, really. I understand." She reached over and caressed his shoulder gently. "You can meet Aunt Luci after you go and save this little boy."

"Are ya sure, Austin? I mean, I could ask Donny about goin' another time…"

"No, Mike, you promised Don. I'll try to get Aunt Luci to meet me the night after tomorrow instead. I can take the evening off from work, it's no big deal."

"Whatever you say, Babe. I'll be there for you. I promise."

"I love you, Hamato Michelangelo."

"I love you too, Hamato Austin."


	11. Chapter 10 Reservations

**Chapter 10 ~_Reservations_~**

Splinter hummed to himself as he poured tea into a cup, careful to strain out the loose tealeaves. He perched on one of the kitchen chairs, warming his hands carefully around the small cup, smelling the aroma appreciatively.

"Good morning, Splinter." Beverly moved into the kitchen, her soft slippers padding across the floor.

The Rat smiled. "_Ohayoo_, Daughter," he greeted her.

Beverly grinned. "Oh… Ohay…"

"_Ohayoo_."

"_Ohayoo… _but there's another word, Don taught me… gozai… gozai…" Beverly stumbled over the unfamiliar syllables, frowning with concentration.

"_Gozaimasu._" Donatello provided, stumbling into the kitchen. "Good morning, Sensei."

"Good morning, my son."

Beverly chuckled. "Now you're just showing off, Donny, correcting my Japanese before you have your first cup of coffee."

"Sorry." Don looked around blearily. "Is there coffee yet? Or are you just making me empty promises?"

His wife shook her head, laughing. "Sit down," she told him. "I'll make it."

"Thanks." Donatello sank into a chair across from Splinter.

"Are your brothers awake as well, Donatello?" asked the Rat curiously. "It is early for you to be out of bed."

"I think so, Sensei," said Don. "Leonardo and Sierra are usually up early anyway. Raph and Ann are in the dojo. He said something about teaching her to spar. Mikey and Austin haven't come out of their room yet."

"Is Kouki still sleeping?" asked Beverly, turning from the coffeepot, which was now gurgling merrily. She came to sit next to her husband, cradling a cup of tea in her hands.

"He was a few minutes ago," said Don. "I didn't have the heart to wake him. He looked so peaceful."

"Let him sleep." Beverly smiled. "He's a night owl, just like his Dad. What time did you come to bed last night, anyway?"

"Umm…" Donatello glanced a bit guiltily at his father. "Around two, I guess."

"And it's…" Bev glanced at her watch. "Seven now. You'd better get a nap in this afternoon, Donny. Especially if you and Mike are going out tonight."

"Shh!" Donatello glanced toward the door. "Leo might hear you."

"He knows you're going out, doesn't he?" Beverly poured a steaming mug of coffee.

"Yes…"

"Donatello, my son. Perhaps you should consider informing your brothers of the nature of your mission," suggested Splinter gently.

Don shook his head. "With all due respect, Sensei, I don't think it's a good idea for Leo to know about this."

Splinter sighed. "The decision is yours, Donatello. Remember our agreement."

"Of course, Sensei. As soon as the boy is safe, I'll talk to Leo."

"Good morning."

A chorus of "good morning"s and "_Ohayoo gozaimasu_"s greeted Austin_. _

Beverly beamed. "I got it! I got it right," she exclaimed.

Austin grinned. "_Omedetoo, _Beverly-_Ane._"

"What?"

"She said "congratulations"," said Don over his cup. "Though technically, you shouldn't use '_gozaimasu'_ when you're talking to Austin. It's a respectful usage for addressing someone older or above you in a hierarchy."

Bev shook her head. "You all give me a headache," she teased.

"_Gomen nasi_, Beverly." Austin grinned.

"That one I know," retorted Bev. "Don says it all the time."

Donatello snorted into his coffee and Austin laughed.

Splinter watched the exchange with a faint smile.

_Such a feeling of affection,_ he thought. _Their spirits meld together like small streams falling into the greater river of the Clan. _

Michelangelo sauntered into the kitchen, holding Skylar. The little girl was grinning at her father, as if they'd been sharing some secret joke. Bailey was at Mike's heels. He made his way over to a corner, curling up on the pad Ann had provided for him.

"Someone's ready for her breakfast," cooed Mike.

Skylar squirmed in her father's arms, turning to scan the adults in the room. Her hazel eyes landed on Splinter and she twisted, grunting, stretching her arms toward her grandfather.

Splinter hid a smile. He enjoyed his role as grandfather, having a chance to spoil his grandchildren in ways he'd never dreamed of while raising his sons.

"_O… Ojii… Ojiichan!"_

Movement in the kitchen stopped and all eyes swiveled to the squirming Turtle.

Splinter felt an unfamiliar constriction in his chest. Decades ago, he'd felt the same way, when a tiny Turtle looked up at him with trusting eyes and stuttered his first word.

_Splin-ter?_

Austin took two steps, wrapping her husband and daughter up together in a hug. Tears were standing in her eyes. "Oh, Skylar. You know your _ojiisan_!"

"What? What did she say?" asked Beverly in a hushed tone, as if she were afraid to speak too loudly.

"She said "grandpa"," answered Don, grinning in delight. "That's great, Mike, her verbal development is really coming along."

"_Ojiichan!"_ insisted Skylar, stretching past her parents to reach for Splinter.

Michelangelo grinned. "I guess she wants you, Sensei." He held the baby out to Splinter, who gathered her into his arms with a smile.

"Thank you, my son. _Ohayoo, mago-chan._" Splinter tickled Skylar gently under the chin and she laughed with delight, reaching out to grab at his whiskers.

He twitched his nose, turning so that his sensitive whiskers were out of her reach. Skylar frowned for an instant, and stretched her little legs, straining to reach. When she couldn't grasp his whiskers, she settled for a handful of the soft ruff of fur around his neck, winding her fingers into it and staring, fascinated, as she tugged. Splinter smiled, prying the tiny fingers loose.

"Gently, Granddaughter," he murmured.

"No pulling on _Ojiichan,_ Skylar," scolded Austin. She met Splinter's eyes and blushed. "Sorry, Sensei."

"She is not the first, Daughter," said Splinter, reassuring his daughter-in-law with a smile. "Her father nearly plucked me bald before he learned that this fur is not meant to be hand-holds for climbing."

Austin's startled laugh made Splinter's grin widen. He saw Michelangelo look at him, shocked, for an instant before Donatello began to chuckle and the Turtle's cheeks reddened.

"You must have had your hands full with these boys," said Beverly, coming over to the table. "May I pour you another cup of tea, Splinter?"

"Thank you, Beverly. Yes, they were… challenging, to raise," he said, dodging as Skylar swung a tiny fist, attempting to bop Splinter on the nose.

"I don't know how you did it, Sensei," said Don, leaning back comfortably in his chair. "I mean, there are _four_ of us, and one of you. At least Mike and I have the family…"

"Yeah," Michelangelo chimed in. "I don't know how I'd handle raisin' Skylar by myself, but we never missed havin' two parents or anything like that. I mean, you were the best, Sensei."

Splinter was busy fending off Skylar's attempts to snatch a handful of his ear to answer. With a delighted giggle, she lunged forward, and managed to step squarely in his stomach. The Rat grunted, and lifted the squirming bundle up a bit to relieve the pressure. Her leg shot out, her two-toed foot catching his cup of tea, sending it rolling across the table. Splinter jumped up from the chair, turning to shield the child from the hot liquid.

"Skylar!" Austin hurried over, and Splinter relinquished the giggling baby to her mother. "Naughty girl, you've spilt Sensei's tea," scolded Austin.

"She is active this morning," Splinter commented dryly.

Beverly was already mopping up the tea with a dishrag.

"I'm so sorry, Sensei," said Austin, giving him an apologetic bow. "I don't know why she's so full of it."

"She is a child," answered Splinter. "Perhaps it is time to begin guiding her through the simple katas. The exercise would allow some of her energy to be expended."

"So young?" Beverly paused in her cleaning to stare.

"My sons were not much older when they began their training." Splinter nodded. "Young bodies absorb the exercises most readily."

"Oh." Splinter didn't miss the glance Beverly shared with Donatello. "We… we hadn't actually discussed… I mean, Kouki…"

"Sensei's right, Bev," said Don gently. "I should start Kouki on some basic forms soon, too. Don't worry, at this age it's more of a game than a formal training. We loved it when we were small… at least until we were old enough to see training as work." He flashed a smile at his father.

"I… guess so." Beverly glanced at Splinter, obviously uneasy.

"Bev." Donatello stood up, going to his wife. He took her hand, slipping an arm around her waist. "You know Kouki will have to be trained. He might not choose to become a ninja, but he will at least have to know how to defend himself. Aside from our family's enemies, he's not human."

Beverly nodded, turning to her husband and wrapping her arms around him. "I'm just not sure…" She glanced at Splinter again. "Well, he's so brilliant already… I don't want him to neglect his studies to study martial arts. You guys had a different upbringing… I mean no disrespect, Splinter." She turned to face the Rat. "You taught your sons to fight out of necessity, I understand that, but our kids… they don't need to be the warriors their fathers are, do they? I mean, they have a chance to choose a different life…"

"Beverly-chan," Splinter kept any trace of irritation out of his voice. "I fear Kouki's life will be chosen for him, by his form, and by his Clan."

"What do you mean?" Her blue eyes narrowed in confusion and the beginnings of anger.

"He means Kouki is fated to be who he is," explained Donatello, intervening. "He's a Turtle, Bev. You know that means he won't be able to integrate into human society. And with his father and uncles all being ninja… Well, he's probably going to follow in our footsteps. We're not going to force anything on him_, Itoshi._"

"I… I guess I understand that. I… just don't like the idea of him fighting," answered Beverly.

"I have raised my sons to fight only when they must," said Splinter, standing up. He felt stiff and old suddenly. "Please excuse me."

He made his way slowly out of the kitchen, heading for his room. He slid the rice paper door aside, stepping into the familiar space and breathing deeply of the faint scents of wax and incense, allowing the smells to calm his spirit.

_Beverly does not understand our ways, even after so long,_ he thought with a twinge of annoyance. _She would stop Donatello from fighting at all if she were able. She does not understand the _need_ for my sons to fight, does not understand honor._

_Perhaps I am being unfair. She has come into our clan from a very different culture, where fighting was a dishonorable act. It is for Donatello to decide whether to train his son in the art of ninjitsu. But how can I stand aside and allow my grandson to grow up unprepared for the hostility he would meet in the human world? Will he be kept hidden here, in the tunnels, his entire life? Perhaps Donatello will wish to live elsewhere with his family, away from humans, where his son can be kept safe without fighting._

The unsettling train of thought made Splinter's whiskers twitch. _No. My sons are a team. They have always been a team. Donatello must see Kouki needs training…_

A small tap at the door announced Austin's presence before the faint scent of lavender reached Splinter.

"Enter, Daughter."

Austin slipped into the room as if unsure of her welcome, and knelt before her Sensei, her head bowed.

"What is it, Austin?" he asked.

She hesitated an instant before looking up to meet Splinter's eyes. "I have to ask you for a favor, Sensei," she said hesitantly.

"How may I assist you, Daughter?"

"Well, Sir, you know my Aunt, Lucille, is in town, right?"

Splinter nodded. Leonardo had informed him of the source of Austin's distress several days before.

"Mike… Mike and I have decided… That is, with your permission, Sensei…" Austin shifted on the tatami mat, nervous. Splinter waited while she drew a deep breath, gathering her courage. "Michelangelo and I would like your… blessing, Splinter, to allow Aunt Luci to meet Skylar. We'd like to bring her into the family."

Splinter hid his surprise. "Austin, do you believe it is wise to reveal our existence to your family?" he asked. "For what reason would you do this?"

"When my mother passes," said Austin slowly, "Aunt Luci will be the last of my family who… who I can trust. Obviously my father…" She looked away, but brought her gaze back to meet Splinter's. "Aunt Luci took care of me when I was a little girl. She looked out for my mother. She's… she's all I'll have left, when Mom's gone, Splinter, outside of our family. I don't make this request lightly, but if… if you believe I shouldn't do this, for the good of the Clan… I'll… respect that decision." She met his eyes steadily.

Splinter watched the young woman. Her expression held a mixture of trepidation, hope, and courage.

_She fears I will refuse. She did not have to come to me. This decision could have been made between her and Michelangelo alone, but she has come to ask my permission out of respect. The safety of our family has always been paramount… and yet, how can I ask that my daughters leave their families, sacrifice themselves? Our lives depend on secrecy. This is a difficult choice indeed. _

"Austin-chan," Splinter began. He saw the glitter of tears start in his daughter-in-law's eyes and shook his head. "If you believe your _obasan_ can be trusted, then I will not prevent you from allowing her to know about us. All I ask is that you guard our Clan's safety."

"Of course, Sensei. I wouldn't ask if I didn't believe she could be trusted," said Austin, a grin overtaking her face. She ducked her head respectfully. "Splinter, I… I must ask one more thing," she said a bit sheepishly.

"Yes?"

"I… Well, I plan to meet Aunt Luci tonight, in Central Park." She met his eyes. "I wasn't going to take Skylar unless you agreed, but I had to see her before she goes back to New Jersey tomorrow… I couldn't let her leave without at least seeing her again, even though I can't go to Mother…"

Splinter nodded his understanding and Austin trailed off. She managed a faint smile.

"See, the thing is, Splinter, I would've gone tomorrow night to meet her, when Mike could go too, but she's leaving. He and Don have plans for tonight, and he doesn't really want me to go alone, and I wondered… well, I wondered if you'd go with Skylar and I tonight to the park?"

Splinter chuckled. "My daughter, I would be honored to accompany you."

"Oh, thank you, Sensei. I was afraid we wouldn't be able to go," Austin said, the first real smile touching her lips since she'd entered Splinter's presence. "I couldn't bear the thought of not seeing Aunt Luci again before she leaves, but Mike practically forbade me to go on my own, and I can't talk to Leo…" She trailed off.

"Is Leonardo not aware of your decision to reveal our Clan to your aunt?" asked Splinter sharply.

Austin flushed. "Well, I am _going_ to tell him, Splinter. I wouldn't keep something like that from him or go behind his back, but I thought he'd be more receptive if I had your permission first."

"Daughter," said Splinter seriously. "Leonardo is _jonin_. If he does not wish for you to do this, you will need to respect his wishes."

"_Hai_, Sensei," answered Austin, ducking her head. "I understand."

Splinter nodded, dismissing her. Austin rose, giving him one last bow, and hurried from the room.

The Rat's whiskers twitched, and he drew a deep breath, settling his spirit into the greater calm of the universe.

_This too, will pass_, he told himself. _Our Clan has faced greater challenges, and we have always overcome them._


	12. Chapter 11 Calamity Park

**A/N: Just a heads-up, the familiar theme... happy endings... starts now. Bonus points for catching the brief cameo in this chap. It's pretty obvious, but it was fun to slip in there. ;)  
**

* * *

**Chapter 11 ~**_**Calamity Park~**_

Lucille Chesney was having a most confusing day. It had started with a phone call from her niece, Austin. The girl had pleaded with her to stay just one more evening in the city, but Lucille stood her ground. After the way Austin walked out on her in the diner, she was certain that embroiling herself further was a waste of time. Austin still refused to visit her mother, and a brief phone call to Janey's room in the terminal care wing told her there wasn't much time. Luci didn't plan to waste it arguing with Austin.

_I'm sorry, Janey. I know you wanted your daughter back, but I can't simply take her by the hand and _drag_ her to your side. I wish I could bring her back to you, Janey, and your granddaughter, too… I don't know if I should even tell you Austin has a daughter, it can only bring you more pain. But how can I let my sister die not even knowing that she's a grandmother? _

When Austin called, hope spiked momentarily in Lucille's chest. It soon fizzled though, when Austin explained that she wanted Luci to meet her daughter, but insisted that she would then see why she couldn't go to her mother's side. Finally Lucille agreed to meet Austin in Central Park on her final night in the city, even though the girl insisted the meeting must take place at night, long after dark, at a secluded play area.

_You're not the only stubborn female in this family, Austin Abramson… Hamato. I'll talk you into seeing your mother if it kills me._

_Hamato… her name is Hamato now. Odd, that sounds Japanese. Has she married into a Japanese family, just like her mother did? After her experience growing up with her father, I would think she'd avoid repeating Janey's mistake. Of course I haven't seen her in over ten years, aside from the occasional letter… So much might have changed._

Lucille sighed, checking her watch for the third time in ten minutes. It was time to go. Slipping on a light jacket, she made her way out of the hotel, stepping out onto the street.

_I believe I'll walk. It's not far to Central Park, only a few blocks, and if Austin's directions are accurate, I should be able to take the footpath straight to this play area she mentioned. I've heard one shouldn't wander alone in Central Park at night, but I'll just skirt the edge._

She made her way down the sidewalk, the rubber soles of her sensible soft leather flats slapping the cement. The crowd was far thinner this time of night than during the day, but there were still a fair number of people, in Luci's estimation, out on the street. While the daytime sidewalks were populated with men in business suits and women in straight, dark skirts and low heels, the evening brought out the city's color and youth. Young people moved along, arms linked, laughing and happy as they strolled toward their evening entertainments. Lucille saw women in mini-skirts, shorts, and tights, all seeming intent on showing as much skin as decently possible, some with more restraint than others.

_Goodness, to be so young again,_ thought Lucille, passing a red-head with a bare midriff and cut-off jeans.

The woman was leaning on the arm of a tall, dark-haired man. He smiled into her eyes and they paused on a street corner long enough for him to reach over and grasp her hand in his own.

"We've got to get back, Casey," she was saying. "Don's coming over soon."

"Ok, Babe."

_What a lovely couple,_ thought Luci, smiling. _Ah, Robert…_ She fingered the heart-shaped pendant hanging around her neck. A single jade stone lay nestled in its center. _I wish… Well, if wishes were pennies, I suppose I'd have rooms filled with copper, now wouldn't I?_

She passed the young couple, meeting the red-head's green eyes briefly and exchanging a smile with the woman as she crossed the street toward the park. The girl's smile was so care-free, so much like Janey's before her illness, Lucille felt a lump burn in her throat. She swallowed hard, quickening her step.

_I've got to convince Austin. I've just _got_ to. For Janey._

Stepping off the main sidewalk, Lucille noticed that a few lamps dotted the pathway through the park. Grateful for the light, she pressed on, turning right at the first fork as Austin had instructed. She hurried through the shadows, a faint feeling of unease making the hair on the back of her neck prickle. She felt distinctly as if someone were watching her as she made her way along the path.

_Stuff and nonsense! _ She scolded herself mentally._ Austin never would've suggested this meeting place if it weren't safe. Stop being such a foolish old woman, Lucille! This might be your last chance to see Austin before you leave the city, your last chance to let Janey have her last wish._

No one accosted Lucille as she stepped off of the tarmac and onto the springy wood-chip surface of a small playground. Seeing a darker shadow on the far side of the swings, Lucille waved, calling out softly.

"Austin? Austin, darling, is that you?"

The young woman stepped forward, into the pool of lamplight, placing her body between her aunt and what looked like a stroller parked in the deeper shadows.

"Aunt Luci! You came!" Austin's voice sounded strained, with a mixture of relief, joy and trepidation.

"Well of course I came, child. I couldn't pass up the chance to meet my great-niece," said Lucille, wrapping Austin up in a tight embrace. "Oh, Austin." Lucille grasped the younger woman's shoulders, leaning back to look into her face. "I was so afraid I might never see you again."

"Well, I'm here now, Aunt Luci."

"Where is this little girl of yours? I can't wait to meet her," said Luci. She reached into her purse. "I didn't have much time for shopping, but there's a darling little store just a block down from the hotel…" She drew out a small, white stuffed rabbit. "They simply didn't have any teddy bears, but this rabbit was so darling I couldn't resist."

Austin smiled, and Lucille heard her chuckle.

"She'll love it, Aunt Luci." She sobered. "But, before you meet Skylar, there's something you should know. You see, she's… kind of different. In fact, she takes after her father."

"How do you mean, different?" Lucille watched Austin's expression shift through anxiety to confusion and back to worry.

_What could possibly have her so concerned? She knows I'm not racist… Perhaps the child is deformed somehow?_

"Well, no matter, child," said Luci firmly. "She's your daughter. That's enough for me. I know I'm going to love her."

"I hope so, Aunt Luci. But there's one thing, before you meet her. My husband, Mike… He and his family… well, they're very special people, Aunt Luci. And I would do anything… _anything_, to protect them. You've got to understand that." Austin peered intensely at Lucille.

"Of course, dear," said Lucille slowly.

_Oh, Austin, what have you gotten yourself into? What kind of family needs this much secrecy? _

Austin nodded. "I… I guess I trust you, Aunt Luci," she said, half to herself. "Otherwise, I wouldn't have come. Stay here. I'll bring Skylar over."

"All right."

Lucille watched a bit pensively as Austin wheeled the stroller closer, pausing a few steps away. Austin's hesitation was making her nervous. She braced herself.

_Surely nothing can be _this_ bad,_ she thought. _The child can't be so awful-looking… she is Austin's, after all. No matter. She is family. _

Austin approached with the child wrapped loosely in a blanket. She paused a moment before turning so that the light fell over the bundle in her arms, and drew back the blanket.

"Aunt Luci, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Skylar."

"Oh!"

At first, Lucille thought the child was Black. Her skin seemed dark, shining slightly in the pale lamplight, framed by a fringe of shining brown hair. Her eyes, though, were all Austin. Hazel, and sparkling with a familiar bright intelligence, they gazed up at Lucille with the same fearless expression Austin herself had leveled on her as a baby.

"Oh, she has such beautiful eyes…" Lucille trailed off as the child shifted in her mother's arms and the light revealed the _green _hue of skin surrounding the child's eyes. "What on earth…" Instinctively, she reached out, tugging the blanket back from the baby's face. Luci stumbled backward, her hand flying to her mouth.

"She… she's…"

"She's a Turtle, Aunt Luci," said Austin softly. "Just like her dad."

"She's a…" Lucille held a hand to her forehead, feeling a bit faint. The baby squirmed again, gurgling, and Austin sighed.

"Maybe you should sit down, Aunt Luci," she suggested, motioning toward a bench. She lifted the little girl up, resting her against her shoulder, and tugged the blanket back, revealing what looked like a bowl… No, it was a _shell_, on the child's back. Lucille blinked, but stumbled toward the bench.

"Austin, how… I mean…"

"It's a long story, Aunt Luci," said Austin with a smile. "I'll tell you about it. Are you… are you sure you're ok?"

"I… I'm not sure, Dear," said Lucille faintly. She reached out tentatively, brushing a finger against the child's forearm. The baby smiled widely and reached out, grasping at Lucille's sleeve. She contained a flinch. "Oh!"

"What is it?" Austin sounded tense, and she drew the baby back a bit.

"She has three fingers!"

"She does." Austin let the child take her own hand. She stroked her thumb across the tiny wrist. "And two toes, just like her dad."

"So her father…" Lucille swallowed hard. Her sense of reality had taken a violent turn.

"Yes. Her father is a Turtle, too. He's a mutant, Aunt Luci. He's the most amazing man I've ever met, and I love him very much."

Something about the girl's calm, steady tone made Lucille look up, meeting her gaze. Austin was watching her warily. The older woman noticed how she was sitting on the edge of the bench, as if she'd bolt. She looked toward the child once again. Its appearance was still a shock. Lucille couldn't shake the feeling that her niece was holding a very life-like doll. The child just didn't look _real._

She reached out again, tentative, to touch the baby's hand, to assure herself this was actually happening, when a shout rang out from the shadows on the far side of the play area.

"_Ki o tsukete, _Austin!"

Lucille understood enough Japanese to spin, ducking at the warning. Just in time. Something whistled over her head, brushing her hair.

"What on earth?" She straightened, scanning the darkness for the attacker, at the same time moving instinctively to shield Austin and the child.

"Aunt Luci! Look out!" Austin's hand gripped her arm, drawing her back. "Take Skylar."

Lucille turned toward her niece and found her arms suddenly full of a squirming bundle that she instinctively cradled. The baby looked up at her, hazel eyes wide and uncertain, but still unafraid. Lucille was vaguely aware of the child's leg brushing her wrist, the hard edge of the shell digging into her arm.

_Odd, I would've thought its skin would be more… leathery. It's actually quite soft…_ The thought flitted across her mind as shouts erupted.

"Get the girl!"

"You stay away from my family!"

"You're comin' wit' us, girly. Yer Daddy wants ta talk ta ya."

"Be careful! We ain't supposed to hurt her!"

"Hey, is dat a kid? Looks like one o' dem freaks! Grab it!"

Lucille tore her eyes away from the baby in her arms in time to see a group of men moving toward her. Briefly she was reminded of the man she'd seen earlier on the street, with his obvious muscles, long hair and casual clothes, but the similarities ended there. The expressions on the faces approaching her held no benevolence, no reassurance at all. Their expressions ranged from frightened anger to sneering confidence.

"Jus' hand over da freak, lady, an' ya don't hafta get hurt."

"_Hi-yah!_" A new voice joined the fray as a small, cloaked figure seemed to come from nowhere, crashing into the leader and knocking him backward. He landed with a thudding grunt.

"Don't just stand there, ya mooks! Get that kid!" he shouted, scrambling up.

"Austin! Austin where are you?" cried Lucille, back pedaling as two of the men approached.

The taller blond lunged forward, grabbing her arm, while the dark-haired man reached to snatch the baby from her arms.

"No! You leave her alone!" Lucille lashed out, kicking the man's shin as hard as she could. Shifting the child to one arm, she tried desperately to push the blond away, but he caught her wrist in a vise-like grip. Beyond the dark-haired man, Lucille saw the small cloaked figure launch itself through the air. She backed up with a shriek, and the men whirled to face their attacker. He bounced off the dark-haired man, throwing a punch that threw the man backward several feet. He landed with a _thud_ and didn't get up. Lucille jerked free of the blond's grip. The man circled the cloaked figure, drawing a chain from his side and swinging it in a slow, lazy arc.

"Stay away from my _granddaughter,_" growled the figure.

"Splinter!" Austin's shriek cut through the night, and the hooded figure turned his head. It was a mistake. The man's fist shot out, catching him in the chest. The small figure flew back, colliding with a lamppost before sliding, boneless to the ground. In shock, Lucille turned, her only thought to take Austin's child and run, but an iron band seemed to fasten itself around her arm, jerking her around so that she was facing the leering blond man again.

"Where da ya t'ink yer goin?"

The man snatched the baby, yanking it out of Lucille's arms, and shoved her back, ignoring her cry and the rising wail of the child. Lucille fought to regain her balance, her arms windmilling. She tried to throw herself forward, clutching at the man's arm, desperate to retrieve the baby, but he threw out his fist, striking her cheek and knocking her back. She fell backward, and her head connected solidly with the bench. She slid to the ground, haze darkening her vision.

"We got what we came for. Come on, let's get out of here."

"Splinter!" Austin's voice rang out, growing fainter with distance and with the encroaching unconsciousness. Lucille fought to stay awake, but she couldn't force her sluggish limbs to move.

"Aunt Luci… Splinter! Help! Help me…"


	13. Chapter 12 Isamu

**Chapter 12 ~_Isamu_~**

Donatello glanced at his brother as the moved across the rooftops. Michelangelo was pacing him easily, an uncharacteristically grim expression settled on his features. Don held up a hand, indicating to Mike he wanted to pause for a moment. Michelangelo came to rest balancing on a ledge a few feet from his brother.

"What's up, Bro?"

"Mike, are you ok? You've been awfully quiet since we left the Lair."

"I'm good, Donny. I just wanna go and get that kid outta there. You know, before the bad guy shows up." Mike's blue eyes flashed, anger showing clearly for an instant. "I'd like to say a thing or two to that woman we saw."

"Mike, we've got to get Isamu out of there. We're not trying to engage. This is strictly a retrieval mission. Leo's probably going to have our shells as it is," he finished, half to himself.

"Donny, you know you're doing the right thing," Michelangelo answered. He hopped down and laid a hand on Donatello's shoulder. "Leo doesn't need this, Bro. Let's just get it handled. We'll deal with Fearless later."

"You're right, Mike. I know we're doing the right thing. It just doesn't feel right, not being totally honest with him, you know?"

Michelangelo nodded. "Yeah." A grin stole across his face. "Well, he's already wound up at me. He about flipped his lid when Austin told him she was taking Skylar to meet her Aunt Luci, but he couldn't very well veto her when Splinter already gave his blessing."

Don snorted. "Nice." He hesitated a moment, meeting his brother's gaze seriously in the dim light from the streetlamps. "Mike, do… do you think it's a good idea? I mean, letting Austin's aunt know about us?"

Michelangelo nodded. "I know, I'm not thrilled with the idea either, Bro, but it's her family. I mean, it was kinda scary for us when you met Bev, you know? But now…" Michelangelo shook his head. "I've gotta trust her, Don. Like I trusted you about Bev. Besides, Splinter's going with her to the park. What could happen?"

Don smiled in spite of himself. "I guess you're right."_ I sure hope this Lucille is trustworthy, Bro, for all our sakes._ "Come on," he said aloud. "Let's get going."

Several blocks later, Donatello came to a halt atop a decaying tarpaper roof.

"Careful," he hissed to his brother. "Don't forget the fire escape's rusting."

"No kidding, Dude. It's about to fall right off. How'd they get these kids out if there was ever a fire?"

Michelangelo slithered down the side of the building, supplementing the fire escape's unsteady support with shuko spikes strapped to his hands, which he drove into the brick building, climbing down the wall rather like Spiderman, rather than resting his full weight on the flimsy fire escape. When they reached a certain window, he paused, moving to one side so Don could get an unobstructed view through the dingy glass.

"Looks clear, Mike. Let's go."

"Ok, Dude."

Don slid the window up, exerting more force as it stuck, and wincing at the scraping, creaking groan. Nothing stirred, and the two Turtles moved inside like wraiths, stepping into a chilly abandoned hallway on the fourth floor.

"I didn't pick up any heat sources at all up here when we scoped the place out," whispered Don. "I don't think they use this floor for anything but storage. We should be able to work our way down to the next floor from here."

"Works for me. Let's get goin'. This place is creepy," answered Mike, scanning the hall nervously. Don noticed the way his brother's hands rested on his nunchucks.

"Easy, Mike. Remember, we've got to stay quiet and _out of sight._ We can't risk raising a ruckus in here with a bunch of kids around."

"Yeah, I know. Let's just get this kid and get out of here."

"You got it, Bro."

Donatello moved silently down the hall, coming to a large, forbidding metal door. He pushed experimentally, but he might as well have tried pushing a boulder. The door wouldn't budge. With the quick application of a lock pick, and another well-placed shove, the latch gave way and the door gave up with a groan that seemed to echo in the musty hall. Both ninjas froze, but there was no reaction to the noise. Don relaxed slightly, motioning to his brother and leading the way into the dark stairwell.

They picked their way down to the next floor. Don had to pick the lock on the next door as well.

"Nice to see they have all the fire-doors locked," hissed Mikey angrily. "What're these people _thinking?_"

"They're trying to keep the kids from escaping, Mike. This place is like a prison," answered Donatello grimly. "I think an anonymous phone call to the authorities will be in order later on. _No_ kid should have to live like this. Come on. His room will be the third on the left."

The pair moved into the dimly-lit hall unchallenged. Nothing so much as moved.

_I suppose the kids are all asleep by now,_ thought Don. _And this sure doesn't seem like the kind of place where they check up on them once they're in bed for the night._

Outside the door, he paused, straining to listen. "Ok, Mike," he whispered. "We go in, we grab the boy, and we get out. It'd be best if he doesn't see us, ok, so no lights…"

A faint sound from the other side of the door had Don's muscles tightening like a violin string. Having lived with Leonardo for well over twenty years, Don recognized the sound of a sword being drawn from a sheath as readily as a familiar voice. Without an instant's hesitation, he shoved the door open, pulling his bo from his back in the same motion.

The room was small and sparsely furnished. A tiny bed was pressed into a corner. There were no toys in the room, no colorful rug or prints hanging on the wall, no clutter, no hint at all that a child lived here. The only light came from the streetlamp outside, and it threw the scene before Donatello into sharp relief.

A short, thin man was leaning over the bed, reaching for a tiny form. In the dim light, Donatello caught sight of smooth black hair and pale skin. The child was soundly asleep, sprawled across the pillow in the way of small children. In the pale light, Don saw a flash of silver. He rushed forward, stifling a cry of rage. At the same time, Michelangelo sprang, his nunchucks whistling.

The man whirled, his single katana flashing as he took a defensive crouch. Seeing the two forms, a slow grin spread across his face.

"So, not only will I rid myself of Aiko's brat, I also have the honor of defeating Karai's enemies as well!"

"Not today, Dude. What've you got against the little guy, anyway?" Michelangelo's nunchucks spun, whistling softly.

On the bed, a tiny form stirred. Don caught a flash of dark eyes before the child scrambled off the bed, landing on the floor behind the man with a muffled _thump_. He crouched there, watching the three figures circle, but didn't so much as make a sound.

Masaru lunged forward, and Michelangelo dodged as his blade sliced through the air. Twisting, the man swung his sword in an arc, aiming for Donatello's thigh. Don deflected the blow deftly with his bo, leaping to one side. Michelangelo swung at the man while his attention was on Don, but Masaru rolled to one side, avoiding the blow. He growled low in his throat.

"This is Foot business," he hissed. "Why do you Turtles interfere?"

"An innocent life is at stake," snapped Don. "When you try to murder a child, we will _make_ it our business to stop you."

"The child will _die._ And you will join him!"

Masaru lunged forward again, snarling, implementing an attack Leonardo would have known not to use against his bo-wielding brother, because it left his left shoulder and neck exposed to Don's deadly staff. Donatello, having sparred against Leo for years, took instinctive advantage of his enemy's reckless assault, bringing his weapon down with a solid _crack_. Masaru slumped to the floor, his sword landing with a clatter. In an instant, Don's bo was at the back of the man's neck, pinning him to the floor. He needn't have bothered. The man didn't so much as twitch.

"Quick, Mike, tie him up."

"You got it, Bro. Wasn't much of a fight, huh?"

"Well there were two of us. He wasn't expecting anyone to try to stop him," said Don grimly.

Donatello heard the faintest of sniffles. The sound came from the closet, the only hiding place in the bare room. Cautiously, he approached; leaving Michelangelo to secure the man he'd knocked out. Don'd been tempted, for the first time in his life, to strike harder than necessary. He remembered his brother, standing over the man in the Foot tower, and felt sick, but at the same time understood, for the first time, Leo's rage.

Knowing it was foolish, cursing himself for the entire endeavor, but knowing they could not leave the child behind in such a place, he reached out and took hold of the door knob.

_This is crazy,_ he thought, even as it turned in his hand. _He'll take one look at me and scream the place down. But we can't just leave him here. _Slowly, he opened the door. There was a scuffling so faint it might've been a mouse and movement in the corner, which stopped almost immediately.

Don cleared his throat. "Hey there little guy. Are you ok?"

No answer. He couldn't even hear the child breathing.

"My name's Don," he said softly, kneeling to reduce his profile and appear less intimidating. "Why don't you come on out of there, ok?"

A whimper and another faint scuffle. Donatello sighed. "I know I look different to you," he said, keeping his voice down. "I'm a friend, I promise. Please come out. My brother and I need to take you away from here, to a friend of ours who can help you, ok? Her name is April. We're going to keep you safe, and make sure no one tries to hurt you any more."

"Dude, we gotta split. He's comin' around," hissed Michelangelo.

"Hold on, Mike, I don't want to scare him," replied Don over his shoulder.

"Donny, just get the kid an' let's get outta here." Mikey's voice was urgent. "Somebody's coming."

"All right, Mike. I've got him."

Donatello reached into the space. "It's ok, little guy," he soothed, catching hold of a handful of ragged shirt. He drew the child forward, reaching with his other hand to capture his arm. Don braced himself for the cry of fear he was sure the child would loose, but not a sound came from the squirming bundle. Scooping the boy up, he cradled him against his plastron. For the first time he got a good look at him. He was painfully thin, and huge, dark eyes stared up at Donatello out of a pale, smudged face.

"Hi there. Don't worry, it's ok," said Don gently, standing up.

"Come _on_, Donny," Mike moved toward the window. "We gotta get out of here _now_."

"Ok, Mike, we're coming," said Don.

They were out the window and climbing the fire escape before the woman's voice rose in a shout of discovery below.

"He'll be after us as soon as she gets him loose," said Don grimly. "Mike, we've got to disappear."

"On it. There's a manhole in the next alley," replied Mike, moving like a ghost over the rooftop.

"Great."

Donatello's arm tightened around the precious bundle as he made the leap to the next building, and he followed his brother down the fire escape, only slightly inconvenienced by the extra weight. Mike had the manhole cover off when Don dropped lightly to the ground. They scrambled down the ladder, and Mike replaced the cover.

"Any sign they followed us?" whispered Don.

"Nope, we're in the clear. How's the little dude?"

"I think he's ok."

"He's kinda quiet."

"Yeah. I think he's just scared. Let's get him to April's."

"Sounds good."

Mike's phone buzzed at his hip. "You've got Mikey, Battle Nexus Champ, hero to the masses."

Donatello rolled his eyes at his brother's cocky reply, but an instant later he frowned as Mike's voice went high with anxiety.

"What? What happened… Where are you… No, we're about ten blocks away… Raph, what happened? Dude, uncool! _Tell me_… Arrrgh! He hung up on me!"

"Mike, what's going on?"

"Raph says we've got to come home now. Something's going on."

"We've got to take the kid to April's…"

"Austin was topside, Donny. I've got to go… I've got to make sure she's ok." Blue eyes pleaded with his brother.

"All right. I'll go to April's. You go home. I'll be there as soon as I can, ok?"

"Ok, Donny," said Mike. His tone was reluctant, but he was already turning away. "But Bro?"

"Yeah, Mikey?"

"Be careful."

"Don't worry, Mike. I will be."

Don headed off toward April's. Now that the urgency of their mission had passed, he took the time to adjust his hold on the child, cradling him more comfortably on one arm.

"Hey there, how're you doing?" asked Don, looking down into the huge black eyes. "We're going to my friend April's now, ok? She'll take good care of you."

The boy shivered and ducked his head. Don saw a tear trace down his cheek. The child lifted one hand to wipe it away, keeping his arm tucked close to his body. Cautiously, Don lifted his free hand to brush his fingers lightly against his hair. The boy froze.

"I've got a little boy of my own, about your age," Donatello told him gently. "Of course he's kind of different, too. He's got his mom's hair, and her eyes, but he's got a shell like me." He smiled. "His name's Kouki. Your name is Isamu, isn't it?" The boy shivered, but his head tilted back until dark eyes stared up into Don's once more. The fear had greatly abated, and now he stared with a curious mixture of shock and wariness.

He shifted slightly on Don's arm, then, slowly, cautiously, the hand that wasn't pinned between his side and Don's bicep moved. He raised his hand, watching Don's face, and timidly brushed his fingers against the Turtle's chest plate. Don smiled, and the child flinched, pulling his hand back as if he'd been burnt.

"It's ok, you can touch," said Don gently.

Wide eyes searched his face, as if the boy weren't quite certain whether to believe him, before the fingers stretched out once more, smoothing over Don's plastron. The boy frowned in concentration, feeling the groove where the plates came together, exploring. Donatello's smile widened. The child was more curious than afraid now. The Turtle flinched slightly when the boy's fingers found the sensitive skin along the edge of his plastron. Isamu's eyes snapped to his face again, and the boy tensed, but he relaxed when Don gave him another smile.

"I'm ticklish."

A tiny grin tugged at the boy's lips. The fingers moved deliberately, drawing a startled chuckle from Donatello, and his grin widened, his whole face lighting up.

Don felt a tiny jolt in his chest.

_Kouki smiles like that. I guess human children aren't so different after all,_ he thought. _This mission might've been insane, but I know we did the right thing._


	14. Chapter 13 Kidnapped

**Chapter 13 ~_Kidnapped_~**

Lucille stirred, slowly becoming aware of the cool, damp night air against her hands and face. She shivered, forcing herself to sit up. A few feet away, shrouded in darkness, the figure she'd seen fighting to defend Austin lay, unmoving.

_He's hurt!_

Lucille crawled toward the heap.

_Who is this person_?

Under the cloak, she wasn't even sure if the figure had been a man or a woman. The incredible speed and grace with which it moved and the power behind the strikes suggested power, but the blow it had received had been crushing, and the dull thud of the body striking the post echoed in her memory.

Was he? She hoped not. He'd fought to protect her niece. And he'd called the… child… his granddaughter. Reaching into her coat pocket, she pulled out… what was left of her cell phone. The sad little bundle of plastic and circuitry hung in two pieces in her hand, the halves barely held together by a few wires. She pushed a button or two without much hope, but the screen remained black. Whoever he was, she was the stranger's only source of help.

Cautiously, Lucille reached out and took a grip on his shoulder. She felt the faint movement of indrawn breath. Swallowing hard, she gave him a little shake.

"Hey," she whispered. "Hey, wake up. Come on. We have to get out of here before they come back…. We must get to a phone, call the police…"

Shifting to sit up, she reached further over him, drawing the hood of his cloak back. In the dim glow of the streetlight, augmented by the faint radiance of a half-moon, she saw a shape… an inhuman shape that made her draw back with a gasp. For a long moment all she could hear was the wild beating of her own heart pounding in her ears. She moved to her knees, her only thought to escape, to run away from the creature.

_This is a nightmare… I'm dreaming… All this with Janey, and finding Austin, and the attack… I hit my head. I must be hallucinating. Perhaps I dreamed Austin and her child… I've been mugged in Central Park and I'm delusional from a head injury…_

He shifted, and she jerked away. When his hand twitched, she froze, staring. The creature stirred again and Lucille gained her feet. She turned to run, when a voice, a _human_ voice, stopped her.

"Austin-chan…"

Lucille froze, turning slowly. The creature was struggling to rise. It had managed to push itself half way up. It dragged itself forward a few inches before collapsing with a groan. Lucille watched with a feeling of deep unreality.

"Austin… Skylar…"

Slowly, cautiously, Lucille came back. She stopped a few feet away, uncertain. The creature lay still. Kneeling, she reached cautiously toward the crumpled form. His head was uncovered now, and his paw was outstretched, reaching, as if he would still rise and crawl forward toward his goal.

Lucille's fingers, almost against her will, reached out, brushing over his hand. The fur was soft, clean, the hands almost human except for the claws and the thin fur that covered the backs. Gaining courage, she slid her fingertips against the hairless palm, feeling the warmth of the skin. She frowned, feeling something warm and wet. Pulling her hand back, she examined the liquid on her fingers and gasped. Blood.

Forgetting her initial fear, but still cautious, she moved closer. When he didn't move, she reached out and gently rolled him to one side, wincing when he moaned.

"Hey! Hey you, get away from him!"

Something black shifted in the shadows, and silver flashed in the moonlight. There was an explosion of stars in Lucille's vision, before everything went black.

* * *

The first thing to re-enter Lucille's awareness were voices.

"But Sensei, I didn't know…" A gruff, accented voice, speaking in hushed tones.

"You must never strike unaware of your target, Raphael." The second voice was older, calmer, quite firm, but familiar somehow.

"_Hai_, Sensei. Is she gonna be ok?"

"I believe so, my son."

_Good to know, _thought Lucille vaguely. She couldn't feel her limbs… she seemed to be floating in a void somewhere between sleep and waking, unable to move but aware of sound and movement around her.

"Geez, Raph, I can't believe you knocked out Austin's aunt. Way to welcome her to the family." A new voice spoke. Something brushed her forehead, cool, like soft leather, before being replaced by something soothingly cold and damp.

"It was an _accident,_ Genius. I didn't know she dis aunt chick."

"He was defending Splinter, Donny. You might've done the same." Yet another voice, female this time.

"Guys, we should be coming up with a plan. Sensei, the men who took Austin and Skylar, did you get a good look at them?"

"I would know at least one of them again, Leonardo. I believe they were Purple Dragons."

"But why? What reason would they have to attack our clan?"

A crash echoed from somewhere farther away, making Lucille twitch, bringing her closer to the surface. She was aware of something cool, smooth and soft beneath her. Sensation returned to her limbs, tingling, and with an effort, she was able to move her fingers.

"Leonardo, go and speak with your brother. He must calm himself."

"_Hai_, Sensei."

"I ain't never seen Mikey dis freaked out." The gruff voice again.

"Well what do you expect? His wife and daughter are _missing_." The woman. Soft fingers brushed Lucille's hair back from her face. "Now, all of you, clear out. She could wake up at any moment. Austin won't be happy if we give her a heart-attack first thing."

"She's gonna hafta see us sooner or later," grumbled the gruff voice, but it was moving away.

_Why shouldn't I see them? _Wondered Lucille vaguely. _As long as they're not those guys from the park…_

"Bev's right, Raph. Besides, we've got a sister to get back. Come on. Let's go get Mike and Leo and figure out what to do."

Lucille fought to open her eyes. She heard a soft moan, and wondered who was hurt. Then she felt her own throat vibrate and realized she was making the sound herself, which made it possible to stop. Her eyelids flickered, but the light was bright, piercing, and she closed them again, not bothering to hold back the moan this time.

"Hey. Hey, take it easy." The woman's voice soothed. "You got quite a whack on the head, but you're going to be ok now…"

_Where am I?_ Lucille forced her uncooperative eyes open again, blinking against the light this time. She noticed a slightly musty smell, not unpleasant, but the smell of age, like the pages of a very old book. _This isn't a hospital… what on earth?_

"Lucille? You're Austin's aunt, aren't you? My name is Beverly." The woman's voice was soft, gentle but firm, reassuring.

_She sounds like a nurse. But this isn't a hospital… it can't be,_ thought Lucille, confusion racing through her mind. _It smells wrong._

"Can you hear me? Lucille?"

"Lu… ci. Name is Luci," whispered Lucille, opening her eyes once more. This time she was able to focus on the woman standing next to her. Clear blue eyes met Luci's gaze. The woman's hair was reddish gold, reminding Lucille of someone… someone she'd seen recently, a red-haired woman, on the street… the memory slipped away before she could grasp it. The park...

"Austin!" Lucille lifted her head, attempting to sit up, but got no further.

"You must lie still." The old, gruff, gravelly voice again. "My sons will retrieve Austin and Skylar-chan."

Lucille turned her head slowly toward the speaker.

_Austin… Skylar…_ The voice echoed in her memory. The figure in the park… The memory filled her mind as she focused on the person resting a few feet away on a chair. A white bandage covered part of his head, wrapping around behind his ear.

He cocked his head to one side, watching her with dark eyes, wary. Luci noticed his ears; they appeared swiveled back, as if in defense against a loud noise, though the room was quiet. His whiskers twitched slightly and her breath caught in her throat.

"You… you're…"

The red-head cleared her throat. "This is Splinter, Lucille," she said softly, in the comforting tone one might use with a hysterical child.

Lucille glanced briefly at the woman before her eyes snapped back to the creature watching her. "You… were there. In the park. You… you fought them. Tried to stop them… Austin…" Tears stung her eyes and trickled down her cheeks. "They… took the baby… I couldn't hold her… I'm so sorry… Austin…" She closed her eyes against the intense grief.

"Yes. Austin has been taken. You attempted to defend my granddaughter," said the Rat calmly. "For this, I know Austin-chan will be grateful."

"You… your… granddaughter? The child…"

"Her name is Skylar," said the woman a bit sharply. "She's Austin's daughter."

"Who… who are you?" asked Lucille, turning her gaze to the woman, though it sent prickles racing down her neck to take her gaze off the Rat.

"My name is Beverly. Beverly Hamato. I'm Austin's sister-in-law. I'm married to her husband's brother," explained Beverly patiently. "Splinter is our father-in-law."

"Miss Lucille-san." The Rat's claws scratched faintly as he stood and came closer. "I apologize for this… awkward… introduction to your niece's family. She wished to introduce you more gently. She trusted you to know our secret, to reveal our Clan to you."

Lucille looked back toward him, watching warily. He stopped a few paces away and reguarded her calmly.

"Your… Clan… That's… You're Japanese. Like Rin." At his confused look, Lucille drew a deep breath. "My… ex brother-in-law. Austin's father."

The Rat bristled slightly. "Yes," he answered a bit stiffly.

"She… her… husband… he is your… son? And… Skylar… she is… your granddaughter?"

"Yes, Miss Lucille-san."

Lucille struggled to piece things together in her mind. _He's a Rat. This is insane… And the child is a Turtle. But he fought those men to defend her… And Austin called the baby her daughter._

"You… fought to save her. You tried to stop them."

"To my shame, I failed," answered the Rat, bowing his head.

"They'll get them back," said Beverly quickly. "They'll get them _both_ back."

"Splinter!" A dark-haired woman rushed into the room. "Leonardo just told me what happened. Are you all right?" She hurried to the Rat, kneeling beside him.

Beverly cleared her throat. "He's ok, Sierra, don't worry. It was a minor scalp wound. Don stitched it already. This is Austin's aunt, Lucille."

The dark-haired woman turned away from the Rat reluctantly to glance at Lucille, but her eyes turned back to him.

"Are you sure you're all right, Splinter?"

_She is so worried about him. _Lucille watched the exchange, fascinated. _As if he were very important to her… The other one… Beverly, said he is their father in law. She certainly acts like his daughter… this is all so strange._

"My injuries are inconsequential, Sierra," replied the Rat gently. "Now our focus must be on rescuing Austin and Skylar from the men who kidnapped them."

"Of course." Sierra got to her feet, relief evident in her expression. "The boys are already planning. Donatello's gathering his tech gear, and Leonardo's mapping out a search pattern. Raphael's keeping Mike busy in the dojo."

"Has Ann returned from work?"

"Yes, Splinter. She's with Kouki. We're all home safe. Do you think they would try to take another of us?" the woman asked.

"I do not know, Daughter, but until we are certain of what is going on, all of you must remain below ground."

"All right, Splinter." The woman was nodding. She leaned forward, embracing the Rat in a tight hug. "I'm just so glad you're ok."

The Rat patted her back gently. She released him and leaned back, a faint blush tingeing her cheeks. "I'll just… umm… go and make some tea." She stood up, turning away, and hurried from the room.

"She worries about you, Splinter," said Beverly softly.

The Rat bowed his head as if to hide any emotion. "Sierra-chan has known too much loss in her past. But now, perhaps Miss Lucille would like a cup of tea," he said politely.

"I… umm… Tea would be nice," murmured Lucille.

"Do you feel well enough to stand up?" asked Beverly.

"I… I think so," answered Lucille softly. Her sense of reality was beginning to return, but when she glanced at the Rat, she had to close her eyes against a wave of dizziness as the world seemed to tilt. "I just… Austin… will… will you really get her back?" she asked a bit timidly.

"Count on it," answered Beverly firmly. "This family… we take care of each other. No one messes with us. They'll get her back, and believe me, when Mike catches up with whoever did this, they're going to be sorry they ever laid eyes on Austin and Skylar."


	15. Chapter 14 Rin

**Chapter 14 ~_Rin_~**

Austin Hamato had not known she could be at once furious to the point of blind rage and terrified into frozen horror until the moment she saw Skylar, her daughter, in the arms of a Purple Dragon. The man held the baby with her shell against his side, his arm wrapped around her plastron so that her feet dangled over the edge of the seat.

The gang members had hustled Austin into a van where she was currently sitting in a seat, her hands bound behind her back and her ankles and knees tied. The PD's had soon learned just how hard she could kick, but their threats to harm the baby soon had her cowed. Skylar kicked and squirmed, howling her protest at being separated from her mother. The man glanced down at her, disgust twisting his features.

"How do you shut this thing _up_?" he growled.

"What'd ya take it for? It's just one o' dem freaks," grumbled the dark-haired man behind Austin.

"Let me take her," Austin demanded, fighting to keep the fear out of her voice. "Let me hold her. She'll stop crying."

"No way, Lady. You've caused us enough trouble," answered the blond holding Skylar. "Your Daddy's gonna have to cough up more dough for this job. He didn't tell us you were one o' dem Karate nuts."

"What does my father have to do with this?" asked Austin. She squirmed, desperate to loose her hands, as Skylar reached for her, straining to reach her mother.

"Shut yer trap, Ricky," growled the dark-haired man. "An' shut dat kid up 'fore I drop her in da river. I got a headache."

"Whatsa matter, Dave, you mad 'cause that little guy kicked ya?" answered Ricky with a grin.

"Shaddup."

"Who was that, anyway? It wasn't one o' dem freaks. Too short."

"I said shut _up_," hissed Dave, leaning forward in the seat. "Gimmee dat kid. I'll shut 'er up."

"Don't you touch her!" shrieked Austin. Twisting, she lashed out with her bound ankles, catching Dave neatly in the wrist. There was a _crack, _and he screamed, pitching forward and clutching at his injured arm. Austin kicked again, catching him in the jaw. His head snapped to one side and he slid, unconscious, to the floor of the van, landing in a crumpled heap.

"Watch it! Hey!" The blond yelled, instinctively yanking Skylar back, out of the way. "You're gonna pay for that, Lady," he growled.

"Hey! What's goin' on back there?" shouted the driver. The van rolled to a halt. Austin struggled wildly against the restraints, desperate to get to Skylar.

"She kicked Dave! He's out cold," answered Ricky.

"Well we're here. I say we dump her, an' da freak, too."

"She's gotta pay for kickin' Dave," answered Ricky, looking at Austin. She shivered. His blue eyes were like ice, not at all like Michelangelo's warm, expressive gaze. "She broke his arm."

"Well we ain't supposed to hurt her. He said if she's hurt we don't get paid," growled the driver. He jumped down, hurrying around to the passenger side, and slid the heavy door open behind Ricky.

"Well what about the kid? I say we break _its _arm. It's only fair."

"No!" Austin screamed. She managed to stand, swaying. She hit her head on the ceiling of the van, but hardly felt it. "Don't you touch her, you scumbags! Leave her alone!"

The man standing on the sidewalk glanced at her. "Are you _nuts_, Ricky?" he hissed. He ran a nervous hand through his greasy black hair. "Don'tcha know what you're holdin' there? It's one o' dem freaks' _kids._ You wanna be the one to bust it up? You really think them things won't come down on you, hunt you down? You oughtta know better. Don't be stupid. Let's just get rid o' this chick _and_ the kid, before they find us."

"It ain't right, Spike. She busted Dave's arm!"

"He was threatenin' the kid, Ricky. I heard him. Now, come on, Lady, nice an' easy. We're just gonna take you in here to see your Dad. Nobody's gonna hurt the fre… I mean, the kid, as long as you cooperate."

Reaching into the van, he plucked Skylar off Ricky's lap, holding her by the edges of the shell, well away from his own body, as if she were a live bomb about to go off. Austin squirmed harder, until the ropes cut into her wrists. She lost her balance and pitched forward, twisting so that her shoulder came down hard on Ricky's knee.

"Watch it!" the startled man cried, scrambling out of the van and letting Austin fall to the floor with a _thud_.

"Careful! She ain't supposed to be hurt!"

Spike held Skylar back to Ricky. "Now, hold this a minute. _Carefully._ Come on, Lady." He reached down, grabbing Austin by the upper arms and dragging her out of the van. He set her on her feet and leaned down, pulling a knife from his belt.

"Now, you kick me, an' Ricky here's gonna do something unpleasant to the kid, you got that, Lady? I'm just gonna cut your legs loose so you can walk in there, but if you give us any trouble, the kid's gonna get hurt. Got it?"

"All right," hissed Austin through clenched teeth. "Don't hurt her. My husband and his brothers are going to find you." She glared at Ricky. "I'll remember you. I'll remember. Mike _will_ find you. There's no place you can hide. No place you can run. You're a dead man."

Ricky swallowed nervously before forcing a laugh. "Whatever, Lady."

With a quick twist of the knife, Spike freed Austin's knees and ankles. "Come on," he said gruffly, grabbing her upper arm and shoving her toward a door.

Austin had a brief moment to take in her surroundings before she was dragged inside. She saw a dimly lit alley, and recognized the building with a shock. They had brought her to her father's apartment. She was hauled forward, and forced to climb four flights of stairs before Spike reached around her to shove open a stairwell door. He stuck his head into the hall way first, before pushing her forward until they stood in front of the only other door in the hall. Reaching forward, Spike rapped sharply on the door.

Skylar's sniffling was the only sound as they stood, waiting, for a few uncomfortable moments. Finally the door swung open, and Rin Abramson stood there, larger than life, framed in the door.

"Ah, Austin. I see you've decided to come for a visit," he intoned with a wry grin. "Please, won't you come inside?"

Austin was propelled through the door, squirming the entire way. Behind her, she heard Skylar's hiccupping cough, signaling the tot was gearing up for another round of howling.

"Let me _go_," she snarled. "What is this about, Father? Why are you doing this?"

"What is _that?_" Rin's voice dripped with disgust. "Why did you bring that… that _thing_ into my home? Your job was to retrieve my _daughter._ Incompetents, you couldn't even carry out those simple orders?"

"It's a kid," answered Ricky.

"Her _name_ is Skylar," snapped Austin, twisting to face her father, furious. "And she's my daughter. Your granddaughter."

"What?" Rin Abramson took a step back, holding up his hands as if to ward off an attack. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Yes, Father. I've been married for five years to a good man. His name is Michelangelo," Austin told him, glaring. "And when he finds out you're the one who paid to have me and our daughter taken…"

"Silence. How dare you speak to me in that tone?" Rin's eyes flashed. "Have I taught you no respect?"

"Respect is earned," Austin shot back.

"Put her in the guest room. Lock the door," snapped Rin, turning away.

"What'll we do with this kid?" asked Ricky, holding out a squirming Skylar. "It's your grand kid, ain't it?"

"That… _thing_ has nothing to do with me. You may dispose of it as you see fit."

"NO!" Austin broke free of Spike's grip, turning and launching herself at Ricky. The man dodged to one side to avoid her attack, twisting to put Skylar between himself and the angry woman. "Let her _go,_" snarled Austin, advancing on the man. "Release her this _instant _or I swear I'll…"

"Stop! Stop it at once!" shouted Rin. "What is the _meaning _of this? Austin Abramson! I raised you as a sensible, practical young woman. Sit down and calm yourself at once!"

Austin ignored him. "Let her _go_."

Ricky backed up, watching the woman with wide eyes. He turned, thrusting Skylar at Rin. "Here. She's your grand kid. You deal with her."

Rin automatically took the squirming Turtle, staring at her with wide, horrified eyes. "My god…" he whispered. "Her eyes…" He looked up into his daughter's face, shock freezing his features. "She… She really is… yours."

Austin stared back, frozen, fear and fury warring. "Father. She's your granddaughter… my _daughter._ Don't do this. Let her go… Please, Father."

Rin glanced at the squirming bundle in his hands. The baby reached out, stretching to touch his face. He moved her back a few inches, distaste scrunching his features.

"Release my daughter," he said firmly.

Ricky stared at the man. "Are you outta your _mind_?"

"Unbind her," Rin repeated, glaring.

When Ricky didn't move, Spike stepped forward. He grabbed Austin's wrist, holding it while he sliced through the ropes binding her arms. The instant her hands were loose he released her and backed away as if he feared she'd turn on him. Austin took a defensive crouch, ignoring the pain that spiked through her shoulders as she brought her hands in front of her once more.

Rin's eyes narrowed. "You care for this… child?" he asked, his voice cold.

"Let her go, Father. Give her to me."

"She is of no concern to me," answered Rin, half to himself. "But it is obvious you care what happens to her. You will obey, Austin, if you do not wish to see this… this _thing_ come to harm."

Austin rushed forward suddenly, reaching for Skylar. Her father dodged, keeping the child out of her reach. Ricky and Spike lunged to catch her arms, pulling her back.

"You shall have the child," said Rin, a slow, cold smile sliding across his face. "But you must obey, Austin."

"I'll… I'll do what you want, Father," said Austin. She allowed her shoulders to slump, as if in defeat, but her eyes were on her baby. "Just give her to me."

"Take her to the guest room," said Rin, smirking.

The men frog-marched Austin through the living room, down a short hall, to a solid wood door. Austin noticed it had been reinforced with a heavy hasp and padlock. A flap at the bottom of the door reminded her of the entries people sometimes installed for their dogs.

"Now, Austin. I've done my best to keep you comfortable during your… stay," Rin was staying. "You'll have access to a powder room through that door, and I'll see to it that you have clothes and anything you need. All you must do, my dear, is play the role of a dutiful daughter."

"Give me Skylar," pleaded Austin as she was shoved into the room. Rin held out the baby, and Austin snatched her close, patting Skylar's shell. The baby wound her arms around her mother's neck, clinging, and buried her face against Austin's shoulder.

"It's all right now, _sai ai _daughter_,"_ whispered Austin. "You're safe now, Mommy's got you…"

"It's almost as if…" Rin trailed off, turning away. "Get some rest, Austin. I'll give you a day or two to… settle in. Then we will be visiting your grandfather."

"You're not going to get away with this," hissed Austin, glaring. "My family will come for me."

"You are home now," answered Rin without turning around. Ricky and Spike backed out of the room, watching Austin warily. "You have no need of any other family. This is your home."

Rin left the room, and Austin heard the rough grating of the padlock closing.

She sank down on the bed, cradling Skylar close to her chest. The baby leaned back to stare up into Austin's face, reaching up to touch her mother's cheek.

"_Haha_," murmured Skylar.

"Yes, Skylar. Mama," whispered Austin, tears sliding down her cheeks. "Don't worry, _Ooto-chan_ will be here soon. Daddy will come. It's going to be ok."


	16. Chapter 15 Understanding

**Chapter 15 ~**_**Understanding**_

The steam rose in faint tendrils before dissipating into the air. Splinter sniffed, breathing the calming scent deeply, before taking a careful sip. The woman sitting across from him didn't seem to notice the cup of tea clutched tightly in her slightly-trembling hands. Her brown eyes were roving around the kitchen, taking in their surroundings as if she'd never seen anything so fascinating as a stove and refrigerator before. Splinter felt a stab of annoyance.

_Our home may be humble, but it has always been enough for us_.

As if catching his thought, she turned her gaze to him once more. The initial scent of fear had greatly lessened, much to Splinter's relief. Fear had an unpleasant, tangy scent that made him feel faintly ill. It was tiring, being feared by those he meant no harm to, indeed, those his sons often risked their own lives to protect. She watched him for a moment, before looking away, as if aware she'd been staring.

Sierra had taken up a spot as close to Splinter as she could get without crowding, cuddling Kouki on her lap. Beverly was assisting Donatello, and Leonardo had pulled Ann aside to discuss what contacts she had in the legal system that might give them quicker access to information on the Purple Dragons' whereabouts. The boys had avoided Lucille so far, giving her a bit of space while they figured out what to do about Austin.

Sounds of intense sparring came clearly from the dojo. Splinter's whiskers twitched. Sparring with Raphael was Michelangelo's only outlet for the moment.

"Splinter, Leo says they'll be able to leave within the hour," said Sierra quietly. "They're going after Hun."

The Rat nodded. "I know, Daughter. They will seek out Hun and attempt to discover where Austin and Skylar are being held."

Splinter could feel Lucille's eyes on him once again. Straightening in his chair, he took another sip of his tea.

Kouki wriggled in Sierra's lap, twisting toward her with a grunt. He snatched her hand and pulled it into his mouth, sucking at her fingers, before pulling it back out and staring, wide-eyed at her hand.

Sierra laughed softly. "That's not food, silly," she scolded. "Would you hold him a moment, Splinter, while I fetch a bottle?"

"_Hai_, Sierra." Splinter cradled the Turtle boy, absently tickling the child's chin. Kouki's eyes went wide for a moment before he gurgled, a wide grin lighting up his face. Sierra fetched a bottle from the refrigerator, removing the top and setting it into a pan of water on the stove to heat.

"He… the baby… Is he Austin's, too?"

Splinter looked up, meeting Lucille's brown eyes. Something jolted in his chest, and the hair on the back of his neck tingled. He forced himself to ignore the sensation.

"This is Kouki," he explained calmly. "Skylar is his _itoko_… they are cousins."

"So… Kouki belongs to Austin's… brother-in-law?" Lucille spoke softly, sounding shy and uncertain, as if she weren't quite sure it was proper to ask.

"Yes. My son, Donatello, is his father."

"And Michelangelo... Isn't that Austin's… husband?" The brown eyes never left Kouki's squirming form. Lucille seemed mesmerized by the child. Splinter fought down annoyance at her staring.

"Yes. Michelangelo is my youngest son. He and Austin have been married for five years."

"How… I mean… This is all so much to take in." Lucille sat back in the chair.

"When my sons and I have retrieved Austin and Skylar, we will explain everything," Splinter said.

"You will get her back, won't you?" Lucille looked at Splinter directly, her eyes searching, pleading. "You'll save her?"

"We will."

"They will. Don't worry," said Sierra. She came to the table, screwing the top on the bottle. Splinter held Kouki out to her and she cradled him in her arms. The baby snatched at the bottle, stuffing the nipple in his mouth and sucking greedily. Sierra looked up, meeting Lucille's gaze. "They saved me once, when I'd been kidnapped by an enemy Clan. They're fighters. Warriors. They'll get her back."

Lucille's eyes flickered from the girl's to the Rat's a mixture of emotions showing clearly. Worry. Grief. Fear, and a deep, settled sadness that rested in the lines around her eyes.

"An enemy Clan? So there are others who… know about you… about your family?"

"Yes." Sierra nodded. "I was taken because I'd helped Raphael when I found him injured after a fight with them. The group who took me is more organized, but no less evil than the Purple Dragons, the gang responsible for kidnapping Austin and Sierra."

"I don't understand," said Lucille, shaking her head. "Why… I mean, what do these groups want with you? Why do you fight with them?"

"My sons fight for good," answered Splinter quietly. "Our enemies work to control the city, using violence and fear to subdue those who would oppose them. My sons will always fight to protect the innocent."

Lucille nodded slowly. "Standing up for what's right does earn enemies," she said softly. "I can understand that. I'm sorry, I meant no offense."

"None was taken, Lucille-san," Splinter answered, deliberately rolling his shoulders to relieve a bit of the tension that had gathered there.

_Why do I care what this woman thinks of us?_ he wondered.

Suddenly the woman sat up a bit straighter and held out her hands to Sierra.

"May I… May I hold him?"

Sierra glanced at Splinter. He gave her a slight nod.

"I… I suppose so." Sierra sounded uncertain, but she came around the table, and lowered Kouki gently into the woman's arms.

To Splinter's surprise, Lucille cradled the baby naturally, as if she'd been doing it all her life. A faint smile crossed her face, easing the lines of grief and anxiety and lighting her eyes.

She glanced at Splinter, giving him the first genuine smile he'd seen, and the world seemed to pause for an instant. Splinter found it difficult to draw a breath.

"Skylar… it's such a beautiful name," she said softly. "And she… she has Austin's eyes. You… You have amazing grandchildren." Her gaze returned to the Turtle snuggled in her lap, looking up at her with wide, curious eyes. "They're beautiful," she whispered softly. "All this seems so… but I wish… Oh, Austin…" Her voice trailed off in a whisper, and a tear splashed on Kouki's plastron.

"Austin-chan is a fighter," said Splinter gently, moved by the way the woman was looking at Kouki.

"She always has been." When Lucille looked up, she'd blinked the tears away and her face was calm, composed. "Janey… Janey would have been so proud."

Splinter nodded. "I hope that Austin-chan may yet have an opportunity to see her mother," he said quietly. "She has honored our family with her presence."

"She seemed… she sounded so… happy," said Lucille. Tentatively, she reached up with her free hand and traced a gentle finger against Kouki's cheek. The Turtle grinned around the bottle, and gurgled, laughing contentedly. He reached up, grabbing Lucille's finger in a firm grip. The woman's startled chuckle drew a smile to Splinter's face. Even in the midst of the worry and fear, the baby had the ability to lighten the mood.

"My, you're a strong little fellow, aren't you?" Lucille commented, smiling into the baby's eyes. "I'm Luci. It's nice to meet you, Kouki."

Splinter glanced at Sierra. She was watching the woman with a faint smile, still wary.

"He'll need to burp," she said quietly.

"All right." Lucille gently tugged the bottle from the baby's mouth, setting it on the table. Kouki squawked in protest, but she lifted him to her shoulder, and he gurgled, reaching for the brown hair that curled loose over her shoulders. Lucille smiled, patting the baby's shell firmly.

"Don't be afraid to pat him hard enough to get a burp," instructed Sierra. "His shell is still a bit thin, but he's not as fragile as a human baby."

"He's amazing," remarked Lucille, smiling as the baby let out an impressive belch. "I can see now, why Austin felt she had to hide her family from me," she said, glancing shyly at Splinter. "She said Skylar takes after her father. Is he…"

"He's a Turtle," interjected Sierra. "And he's the sweetest, funniest, most sensitive person you could care to meet. This has to be killing him."

"Michelangelo will channel his emotions," said Splinter quietly. "His brothers will help him, and his training will keep him focused."

There was a particularly loud crash, and a roar of rage from the dojo. Splinter winced. Rarely had he witnessed such violence from his youngest son. It was unsettling.

"When may I meet them?" asked Lucille a bit timidly.

"Perhaps later," said Splinter, rising. "I must go now, and speak with Leonardo. Please excuse me, Lucille-san." He made a brief bow. Lucille rose as well, returning the gesture, much to Splinter's surprise.

"Good luck, Splinter-san," she said formally. "I wish you well. May the spirits of your ancestors be honored."

"_Doomo arigatoo_, Lucille-san," responded Splinter automatically. "We will return as soon as we are able."

He turned away, making his way out to the main room. For an instant a hint of a scent came to him… the faint smell of lotus blossoms. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply. Tang Shen's face danced in his memory, the softness of her skin as he snuggled against her neck on her shoulder, the way her silky hair hung down, shielding him, and the scent of the lotus she always wore in her hair.

Splinter shook himself, glancing around for the source of the scent. Lucille's jacket was lying across the back of the couch. Unconsciously, Splinter's hand went out, brushing the sleeve. He jerked back, heat rising in his cheeks.

_What has come over me?_ He gave himself a slight shake to rid himself of the lingering sensations, and moved toward the dojo.

Raphael was facing the door, but his amber eyes were completely focused on his brother as they circled. Michelangelo's nunchucks were in his hands, spinning so that even Splinter's sharp eyes could barely make them out.

As Splinter watched, Michelangelo threw himself forward, launching at his brother in a swift attack. Raphael dodged to one side, thrusting his sai to catch the chain of his brother's weapon. The action was slightly slow and clumsy, and Splinter's eyes narrowed, seeing the sheen of sweat on the older Turtle's skin. Michelangelo spun around, bringing his second weapon in an arc, aiming for his brother's unprotected skull.

Without thought, Splinter flew at the combatants, his walking stick whistling through the air, just in time to deflect the blow. The Turtles broke apart, Michelangelo taking an aggressive stance while Raphael fell back a pace.

"Geez, Mikey, save it fer da Dragons," grumbled Raphael, rubbing his wrist.

Splinter watched his youngest son. His blue eyes were cold, angry, devoid of the light of humor that usually twinkled there. He growled low in his throat.

"I shoulda _been_ there, Raph. I shoulda stopped 'em."

"Mike, they beat _Sensei._ There's nothin' ya coulda done," argued Raphael, his sai coming up defensively as his younger brother circled.

"It's my _fault_, Raph. I said I'd be there… said I'd go with her, and I _didn't._"

"Michelangelo! My son, you must calm yourself," Splinter said firmly, moving cautiously forward. "You will do Austin and Skylar no good if you injure yourself or your brother."

"You! What do you know?" Michelangelo's rage poured out as he launched forward, swinging a nunchuck toward Splinter's shoulder. Splinter deflected the blow, shocked at the force behind it, yet he knew Michelangelo had not struck with all his strength. In some part of himself, he was still holding back, still had control of his rage. How long he could hold that control was yet to be seen.

"My son. So angry! A true warrior finds balance in all things," said Splinter firmly. "We will go. We will retrieve our family's daughters. We will bring them home."

"It's your _fault._" Michelangelo flew at his Sensei, bringing both 'chucks whipping down. "You _let_ them take her!"

Splinter ducked, throwing up his stick so that the chains of the chuck wrapped around it. Michelangelo's momentum carried him right over Splinter. The weapons were ripped from his hands by the sheer force of his body flying through the air and he landed on his shell with a _thud_ on the tatami mat.

Splinter let the nunchucks fall to the floor. He made his way carefully toward his fallen son. Raphael stood frozen, staring at his little brother as if he'd never seen him before.

"_Mikey_? Are ya… are ya Ok, Bro?"

Michelangelo rolled to one side, sitting up, as Splinter approached. He flinched when the Rat laid a hand on his shoulder, hunching away.

"I shoulda been there. I shoulda saved her…"

"Michelangelo, my son. No one is blaming you. Austin-chan knew of your mission with Donatello. She understood. She wished for you to go. Now, come. We must not allow regret to distract us from what must be done."

"I… I'm sorry, Sensei. I didn't mean it," Mike lifted red-rimmed eyes to look at Splinter.

"I know, my son."

Twisting, Mike wrapped his arms around his father's waist. Splinter leaned forward, embracing him as if he were no bigger than Kouki, and drawing him close. Mike buried his face in his father's robe, sobs shaking his shoulders.

"They've gotta be ok, Sensei. They've just gotta… We've gotta get 'em back."

"We will, my son. We will."


	17. Chapter 16 Hun and the terrible day

**EDIT: A/N: I nearly forgot to mention, I totally stole this title from Judith Viorst who wrote "Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good Very Bad Day". It's a hysterically funny picture book that everyone should read to at least one preschooler in their lifetime. :)**

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**Chapter 16 ~_Hun and the terrible horrible no good very bad day_~**

All told, Hun had enjoyed a pretty satisfying couple of days. He'd beat the living tar out of a Foot soldier who'd wandered too far into PD territory. The man was advanced in the ranks enough to give Hun a pretty good workout before the blond giant knocked him out with a single backhand. Hun felt a perverse sort of satisfaction in fighting the occasional Foot soldier. Once, he'd fought along side the black-clad ninjas when they were minions of his former master, The Shredder. Now that the boot-lickers worked solely for Karai, they were fair game, and were usually more entertaining to take on than the untrained ranks of rival gangs and mobsters. There was a certain fulfillment in fighting someone who could actually fight _back_ and offer him a challenge for a change.

Then, just yesterday, Hun's spies had brought him news that Karai's operation, the new one that he hadn't been able to decipher just yet, had cleared out of that abandoned warehouse on Fifth and Main. They'd moved a load of supplies just a few days ago, and Hun had a feeling they'd be back for the rest of their stuff soon. He hadn't decided yet whether to set up an ambush and take whatever it was Karai was moving, trucks and all, or to simply light the place on fire, destroying whatever she'd stored there. Each possibility had its appeal, and its downfalls. On the one hand, a battle with Karai's forces always cost him a few casualties.

Not that Hun cared, of course, but if the PD's got a reputation for being _too_ reckless in their endeavors, recruiting would become difficult. It was important to balance the risks of the gang's activity against substantial rewards. Money, after all, greased wheels and kept things running smoothly, like a fine-tuned machine. Hun smiled in pleasure at his own cleverness.

_Shoulda been a poet 'r somethin', _he thought, congratulating himself on the witty simile. Or was it a metaphor? Whatever. English class had been a long time ago, and any schooling Hun did now was on the streets.

Settling into his "office"… it was really just a walled-off area in the warehouse the Purple Dragons used as a base, but Hun had added a large desk, a luxurious leather chair, and some plush carpeting in imitation of Saki's lavish life-style. He found that having an office brought more respect; even from the ignorant, sniveling peons he was forced to rely upon. Sitting behind a desk brought Hun a feeling of power, and he _liked_ power. He liked power as much as he liked money, if not more. Definitely more, because money was only good if it were used to get _more_ power.

Leaning back so that his chair creaked quietly in protest under his bulk (it would never dare to creak loudly), Hun plucked the newspaper from his desk, and resting the bulky heels of his boots on the edge of the desk, began to read.

_Huh. Da children's home burnt las' night, huh? Weird. Sure was a long time ago, growin' up in dat drafty ol' orphanage. What a dump. Wonder if that red-haired witch, Alba was still workin' there… Oh yeah, lookit that. They arrested her... place wasn't up ta code… imagine that. 'Bout time she got busted. Meaner than a junkyard dog, that one was. Good ol' Alba. Made me what I am today._

A faint scraping sound was Hun's only warning before his office was filled with a blur of greens, yellows, browns, silvers and four very familiar red, blue, purple and orange masks. His mind barely had time to register the attack, and his feet to hit the floor, before something whistled through the air next to his head, and quite abruptly, everything went black.

* * *

"Wakey wakey."

Hun's eyes felt as if they were sealed closed. His head was pounding. Even his _ponytail_ hurt. He tried to lift his hand to feel his head, to see if it really _had_ doubled in size, or if it only _felt _as if it had, but his hand seemed to be stuck somewhere behind his back. In fact, both his hands were stuck, and as he stirred he found his legs were stuck as well.

The seat under his substantial rear end was not his soft leather chair, either. It felt hard and there was something that felt suspiciously like a splinter digging into his left thigh. A hard, narrow, cold, straight thing served as the back of his seat, and he soon discerned his arms were fastened together somewhere behind what felt like a steel beam. Hun realized two things very quickly. One, the twenty-eighth time he'd been knocked unconscious was just as uncomfortable as all the times before, and two, he was in a _world_ of trouble.

"Come on, _freak_, wake up. We got questions."

The familiar growl brought Hun a lot closer to total consciousness. He forced his uncooperative eyes open, drawing his brow together in a deep scowl of hatred, even as he blinked, trying to clear his blurred vision.

"_You._"

It took a moment for his eyes to focus. The colors swam in front of him, running together. Green… a familiar, sick, dark green… dark as night, and twice as ugly. A splash of red. Amber eyes, narrowed in disgust, as if _he_ were the monster, as if _he_ were the slimy creature from the depths of the city who had no right to even _exist._

_Crud. I hate Turtles_…

_SMACK._ The back of a green fist connected with Hun's cheekbone, and his vision exploded in stars. He growled, struggling against the restraints he could feel biting into his wrists.

"Now dat we got yer attention," growled Raphael, leaning forward. "Yer gonna tell us what ya've done wit' Austin an' Skylar, an' yer gonna tell us where yer keepin' 'em."

"Keepin' what, freak? Like I'd tell you _anything…_" Hun hardly had time to finish the sentence before there was a steel point pressed to his jugular. He frowned even more deeply, forcing a chuckle. "Go ahead."

"Don't tempt me," the Turtle growled, and for the first time, Hun felt the red-banded Turtle might actually kill him. It was not a pleasant feeling. The Turtles had chances to kill him in the past… Not that he ever went down easily, but there had been a time or two, when Leonardo's katana was poised for a killing strike, or Raphael had him at a disadvantage… but they'd always pulled back at the last moment. Too cowardly to kill, too… _honorable_ to shed blood, they'd spared him, and he hated them all the more for it. Now, with Raphael's amber gaze burning into his own, Hun felt the first stirrings of fear.

Hun did not like feeling afraid. In fact, he hated fear, almost as much as he hated the Turtles. He liked even less the feeling of confusion that was threatening to overtake him as Raphael growled, pressing the tip harder against his windpipe until Hun was having difficulty getting enough air.

"Ya got _one_ chance at dis. We ain't playin', Hun. We want our sister an' her kid back."

"You freaks have a _sister?_" Hun managed to sneer. "Oh, you mean one of those girls who follow you around like a bunch of…" The tip pressed harder and he had to fight back the urge to gag. If he coughed, the blade would penetrate, severing the precious artery that lay pulsing just under the skin. His blood would spray across the mutant's face, staining that horrid red mask…

_The blood probably wouldn't even show…_

"Our _sister_, Hun. Austin. An' her baby. Name's Skylar. Yer goons took 'em from Central Park last night. Ringin' any bells?"

The pressure eased just enough to allow Hun to answer.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, _freak._ What would I want with a woman who let one of _you_ touch her? Or your mutant brat?"

"Careful, Hun." Leonardo spoke up from behind his brother. Hun could just make out the mutant's silhouette and the glint of steel from those swords. "Just tell us what we want to know, and we'll be gone. All we want is Austin and Skylar back."

"I'm tellin' you, I don't know what you're talking about!" snapped Hun. His patience, never his strongest point, was wearing thin.

"Yer goons took Austin from da park las' night," Raphael insisted. "Don't try ta deny it, Hun. We got witnesses dat saw da tats. They were PD's. Now, are ya gonna tell us where yer keeping Austin an' Skylar, or am I gonna have ta start cutting pieces outta ya?" Raphael's sai moved from Hun's throat to his shoulder. He laid the blade against the exposed skin, the cold steel just touching the tendon that ran above the collarbone, as gentle as a lover's caress.

Hun felt as if someone had doused him with freezing water. He began to struggle in earnest then, fighting against the bindings that held him to what he could now tell was a steel I-beam, but he might as well have tried breaking iron bands. The Turtles knew their business all right. They had always proven to be a difficult enemy, accurate, precise and deadly. The beam felt as if it were rooted in the center of the earth. It held against Hun's strength. He let out a roar of rage and desperation that shook the dust from the rafters.

Raphael chuckled, unmoved. Leonardo moved a step closer, and in the dim light, Hun could see a faint, grim smile tugging at his mouth, and he knew. This was no gentle game between long time rivals, no bluff on the Turtle's part. If he couldn't produce the woman and child they were searching for, he would die.

"I don't know what yer talkin' about!" he shouted, desperation slipping into his voice now. "I ain't got no woman, and I ain't got no fricking Turtle brat!"

There was a wild rush of movement behind the two eldest Turtles. Leonardo half-turned, his dark eyes going wide with shock, and Raphael took an instinctive crouch, bringing up his sai in a defensive position. There was the distinctive sound of a sword slipping free of its sheath, but Leonardo's hands were empty.

Hun saw a flash of orange and silver, and in an instant he was staring into the coldest pair of blue eyes he'd ever seen.

"Mike!"

"Mikey!"

"_Michelangelo!_ No!"

The mountain of a man recoiled, his greasy head bouncing off the steel beam behind him, but he could retreat no further. He was certain his blood would spray out over the shocked faces before him, that the blue-eyed monster staring at him with such incredible, burning, reckless fury was going to shove the katana it held in its hands straight down his throat. Hun instinctively gritted his teeth, readying himself for the fatal blow… He would not cry out, would not give them the satisfaction of hearing him beg…

Suddenly the two red and blue-masked Turtles were grappling with a third. A flash of purple, and the fourth Turtle joined the fray. All three of them were wrapping their arms around… Michelangelo?

Hun blinked. Leonardo had the arm holding the katana, hugging it close to his chest and pulling backward, holding Michelangelo's wrist with one hand, apparently trying to keep his sword from impaling the man's chest. Hun hoped fervently that Leonardo was stronger than his brother. Raphael had his sai hooked in the katana's blade, pushing it up and aside. Donatello had wrapped his arms around his brother from behind, and was grunting with the effort to pull him back.

The blue-eyed Turtle seemed determined to throw all three of them off. His glare was fixed on the man, who felt himself beginning to tremble in spite of his determination not to show any trace of fear.

"What've you done with her? Hun, I swear if you've hurt so much as a hair on her head, I'll…"

"Mikey, stop! This isn't the way."

Michelangelo didn't seem to hear Leonardo's protest, though the blue-banded Turtle was doing his best to wrestle the sword from his brother's hand.

"Stop it, Mike! Let me an' Leo handle dis…"

"Mike! If you kill him, we might never find them!" It was Donatello's words that finally seemed to reach the raging creature.

He shrank, wilting slightly as if deflating. The sword point lowered, and Leonardo finally succeeded in retrieving his weapon. Raphael stepped back, panting. Donatello kept a firm hold on his brother.

As the rage faded, Hun recognized the familiar mutant with a shock. He'd never seen Michelangelo as a true threat. Of the brothers, he seemed to be the goof-off, the comic relief. He'd never imagined that the creature could go so completely insane.

_Didn't the purple one mutate once? Into some kind of monster? Could it happen again? Could this one be changing like he did? Maybe they've all gone crazy…_

"Hun, dis is yer _last_ chance. Yer guys took Mike's wife an' kid," growled Raphael. He sounded slightly shaken. "If ya don't tell us _right now_ where they are, we're gonna give Mike back da sword an' walk away."

The orange-banded mutant's eyes came up, burning once more, to stare into Hun's eyes.

The man swallowed hard.

"I didn't do it!" Desperation made him shout. "I didn't take no woman, and I didn't take no kid. If it were Dragons, it was an independent operation. I didn't order it! It wasn't me!"

Fear coursed through him. They didn't believe him, he could see it in Raphael's narrowed eyes, in Donatello's skeptical look, in the cold, evaluating way Leonardo was watching him, and the rage flaring in Michelangelo's ice-blue gaze.

"It wasn't me!" Hun insisted, babbling now with the fear that washed over him in awful, crashing tidal waves. "I don't know where they are, I swear!"

Michelangelo twitched, a low growl coming from his throat.

Hun quaked. "It wasn't me!" he shouted. "It wasn't! I didn't do it! I ain't got yer woman, an' I ain't got yer kid! Do ya t'ink I wouldn't give 'em up? Do ya t'ink I wouldn't tell ya, so ya'd try an' rescue 'em? I'd send ya right inta a trap if I could, inta a crowd of PD's and be rid of ya forever, but _I ain't got 'em!_"

Seeing Michelangelo's weight shift, Hun turned his face to one side, squeezing his eyes shut, bracing himself for the bite of cold steel, for the hot blood running down his neck, for his life to drain out onto the cold concrete floor…

Minutes passed. Cold sweat beaded and slid down his neck, pooling in the hollow above his collarbone like an icy lake. Finally, left with little other choice but to face his fate like a man, Hun forced his eyes open and looked around. He was alone. The Turtles were gone.

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**A/N: I have a confession. I must be a deeply evil person, because this chapter was the most fun I've had in a really long time. I almost felt sorry for Hun. Almost.**


	18. Chapter 17 Learning

**Chapter 17 ~_Learning_~**

Lucille felt she simply could not face one more cup of tea. Sierra had spent most of the evening hovering and offering to refresh Lucille's cup. The younger woman was obviously beside herself with worry over Austin and…

_Her daughter,_ thought Lucille. She shook her head, peering into the small cup of greenish-brown liquid, swirling it gently before setting it aside. _The child… Skylar… she's Austin's daughter. No matter how odd she looks to me… But if she's anything like Kouki, the appearance means nothing. She's as much Austin's baby as a human child would be. In fact, if it weren't for the green skin and shell, I'd hardly know they were anything else but normal children. Oh Janey… Austin has certainly joined an unusual family... And Splinter… He is so… even setting aside his physical appearance; he's different from anyone I've ever met before._

"Can I make you more tea, Ms. Chesney?"

Luci looked up at Sierra, and forced a smile. "No thank you, Dear. If I drink any more tea I think I'll float all the way back to New Jersey."

Sierra's startled laugh rewarded Luci's little joke. The girl sank into a chair.

"Sorry," she said a bit sheepishly. "I didn't mean to press hospitality on you."

"Not at all. Sierra, isn't it?"

"Yes." The girl nodded. Her green eyes were wary, watchful, reminding Lucille of the way Austin had looked at her in the park.

"And, the young woman I met earlier, that's… Beverly?" Lucille asked.

"Yes." Sierra looked up. "Would you like to come out and sit in the living room? The couch is kind of old, but it's more comfortable than these kitchen chairs."

"That would be lovely, thank you."

Lucille followed the girl out to the main living area.

"Please, sit down," invited Sierra. Lucille moved instinctively toward a chair, but Sierra held up a hand, something close to alarm crossing her features. "Oh! Not there, please. That's Splinter's chair."

"I'm sorry," said Lucille easily, moving toward the couch.

Sierra shook her head. "No, it's all right. He probably wouldn't mind at all, actually," she said with a weak laugh. "It's just… none of us sit there. We like to keep it open for him."

"I understand," said Lucille. "Janey and I felt the same way about my father's favorite recliner. Years after he was gone, none of us would sit in his chair. It seemed… disrespectful somehow."

The younger woman nodded, perching on the couch. She ran her fingers through her hair. Lucille started as a huge white dog loped down the stairs. She froze, staring at it, half expecting the animal to turn out to be intelligent and speak to her, though unlike the Rat and the Turtle children, it looked like an ordinary dog.

Sierra saw her staring and turned. "Oh, that's just Bailey. He's Ann's dog," she supplied. "Don't worry, he's friendly. He was trained as a seeing-eye dog," she said.

Lucille watched with faint apprehension as the dog wandered over to lean against the chair Sierra was sitting in. He nudged his head under her hand and Sierra scratched his ears automatically. The shrewd way the dog stared at Lucille was impressive, but normal. She breathed a faint sigh of relief.

The mutant family was outside of anything she'd ever encountered, but meeting an ordinary animal, she could clearly see the difference between even this very intelligent creature and the Rat and baby Turtles she'd met so far. Their eyes held an unmistakably human intellect. They were not animals, despite their different appearance. Splinter and his sons were mutants, but they were clearly as human otherwise as the women they'd married.

"I'm sorry," Sierra said, shifting in the chair. "I… We're usually better hosts. This isn't… normal for our family."

"Oh, not at all!" Lucille shook her head, suppressing a grin at the woman's choice of words. "Perhaps… if you don't mind, you can explain how everyone's related. That would help pass the time, wouldn't it?"

Sierra nodded. "I suppose. Well, you've met Splinter. He's my father-in-law… Austin's too. He has four sons. Leonardo… we've been married just over a year."

The girl flushed, but her green eyes shone. It was obvious that the honeymoon was far from over.

"Then there's Raphael, he's married to Ann. I'm sure you'll meet her later on. She's still working to find any information she can on where the Purple Dragons might be holding Austin and Skylar." Sierra paused, drawing a deep, shaky breath, before pressing on. "Donatello is the next oldest. Beverly is his wife. And the youngest is Michelangelo."

"Austin's husband." Lucille nodded. Questions boiled up in her, but she couldn't think of a polite way to ask how the women had come to be married to _Turtles_. Or for that matter, how the Turtles themselves had come to exist, let alone their father. Instead, she pursued another train of thought.

"I see. But who are these Purple Dragons, and what on earth would they want with Austin?"

"They're a street gang." Sierra scowled. "One of the most powerful in the City. I… I can't imagine what they'd want with Austin and Skylar." She looked at Lucille, searching. "Can you remember _anything_ about the attack, Ms. Chesney? Anything that might give us a clue?"

"Please call me Luci," said Lucille automatically. Her brow furrowed in concentration. "They… they were shouting…"

_The man was coming toward her… 'Get the girl…_'

"I don't think they intended to take the baby… Skylar, not at first. It seemed as if that was an afterthought. They grabbed Austin first, at any rate. I remember…"

'_Yer comin' with us… Your Daddy wants to talk to you…_'

"Rin!" Lucille gained her feet so quickly, Sierra jerked back, staring at the woman as if she'd lost her mind. "Austin's father… Oh! We must call the police at once! I know who has Austin!"

"What? No! You can't!" Sierra jumped up, holding out her hands as if she'd physically stop Lucille from leaving. "You don't understand! What do you think would happen if the authorities saw Skylar or Kouki?"

Lucille stared into the young woman's wide green eyes, and sank down to the couch.

"I… I never thought of that," she confessed. _What _would _happen? It would be a media circus... the government might even... but Austin... we must get the police... _"But how… what will we do?"

"Who is Rin?" asked Sierra. She remained standing, eying Lucille warily.

_She's considered the possibilities. _The thought flitted across Lucille's mind. _And Rin has the baby too... oh no... but he wouldn't... his own grandaughter... would he?_

"Austin's father. The man… one of the men who attacked us, I remember quite distinctly, he told Austin her father wanted to see her. Rin has her, I'm sure of it!"

"Austin's… father?" Sierra's eyes widened slightly. "She told me she hasn't seen him since before her and Mike married. What would he want with her?"

"I don't know, but I'm sure I'm right," said Lucille. "The man said 'your daddy wants to talk to you.' Who else could he have meant?"

"I'll tell Splinter." Sierra scurried across the Lair toward a door hidden in a corner beyond the kitchen.

Lucille instinctively followed, nearly crashing into her when Sierra stopped suddenly outside the door. She knocked gently on the rice-paper door's frame. The move seemed decidedly incongruous to Lucille, but the younger woman waited until a gruff 'enter' came from inside before pushing the screen aside.

"Splinter! Lucille thinks she knows who has Austin. We've got to call the guys right away…"

The Rat was kneeling at a low table. Lucille glanced around the room, fascinated despite the urgency of the situation. The room was a pleasant shock. Scrolls with gracefully painted flowers and scenes and what Lucille recognized as kanji and kana lettering adorned the walls. The floor was covered in tatami mats, and a sleeping mat was placed against one wall. Lucille noticed with interest that the head of the mat was facing East, in keeping with Japanese tradition. On one wall, a shrine of sorts had been erected. A small table sported candles burnt to various heights as if they'd been carefully tended and faithfully replaced as they burned.

"Lucille-san, is this true?" Splinter's sharp voice brought Lucille out of her reverie. "Do you have knowledge of the men who took Austin and Skylar?"

"Well, one of the men…" Lucille met the Rat's dark eyes. Her breath caught in her chest. His eyes were so intense. They seemed to seek out her very soul. "He said her father wanted to talk to her. Rin must have sent them."

"Do you believe Rin Abramson would have done this to his own daughter?" he asked quietly. There was a calm power to his gaze.

"My brother-in-law is a very determined man," she said. "If he had some reason for wanting Austin back home, he would go to extraordinary lengths to make that happen." Splinter watched her, cocking his head slightly. Lucille sighed.

"When my sister left, at first he tried to force her to come home. When he wasn't able to retrieve his wife, he stopped her from seeing Austin. He decided that if he couldn't have her, then she wouldn't be allowed to see her daughter, ever again. He succeeded in keeping them apart for over ten years."

Splinter nodded sharply. "We must contact my sons. Sierra, would you call Leonardo and inform him of this?"

"_Hai_, Master Splinter." Sierra hurried from his room.

"I thank you, Lucille-san," said Splinter.

"I just hope your sons know what they're getting into," Lucille answered. "Rin is a dangerous man, Splinter."

"My sons have faced danger before," he replied. "They are ninja, Lucille-san."

"Ninja?" Lucille forced herself not to stare.

"Yes." The Rat nodded. "Perhaps you would like to sit?" He gestured toward a small pile of cushions near the table.

Lucille hesitated, torn between anxiety and fascination. "If I'm not intruding?"

"Not at all."

Lucille sank down, sitting on a small pillow and crossing her legs neatly. She noticed Splinter's raised eyebrow and smiled.

"I'm not as young as I was," she said, "But I taught elementary school for twenty-five years. I haven't lost my ability to sit on the floor."

Splinter chuckled. "You are a teacher of children?"

"I was." Lucille smiled. "I taught Kindergarten and first grade for many years. When Janey became ill last year, I took an early retirement from teaching to take care of her." She fought back the tears that stung her eyes. "She and Austin are all the family I have left. And Skylar, of course."

There was a beat of silence before the Rat spoke again.

"You… accept Skylar as your own?" he asked carefully, "Though she is not human?"

Lucille shook her head. "All this… your family… this is a lot to take in," she said slowly. "I mean, finding out you _exist, _let alone that Austin's husband… I mean, I haven't even met him yet, but Austin says Skylar takes after him… But Austin… Skylar is her daughter. She gave birth to her?"

Splinter nodded, watching her with an inscrutable expression. It didn't seem the time to ask about the physical aspects of what must have been an incredibly complex birth. Lucille made a mental note to speak with Austin later.

"Then she is my niece," said Lucille quietly. "Austin is my sister's daughter, and Skylar is _her_ daughter. That's good enough for me."

The Rat let out a breath as if he'd been holding it. Lucille was startled to see a genuine smile cross his features.

"You are a remarkable woman, Miss Lucille-san," he said softly.

Lucille felt heat rising in her cheeks. She shook her head. "I… thank you."

"Perhaps we should go and see if Sierra was successful in reaching Leonardo," suggested Splinter.

"Yes, of course."

The Rat stood up, holding out a hand to assist Lucille to her feet. She hesitated an instant before grasping his furred fingers and allowing him to help her up. Splinter held on to her hand for a heartbeat after Lucille was standing.

He let go, blinking and looking away as if embarrassed. He picked up a gnarled walking stick from beside the table and tapped his way out of the room, holding the door for Lucille.

"Splinter! I reached Leonardo. They left Hun about twenty minutes ago. They're coming home now," said Sierra, sounding slightly breathless. "Ann can find out where Rin Abramson lives, but it'll be light soon."

Splinter nodded. "Yes. They will need to wait for the cover of darkness to go out again."

"Michelangelo must be beside himself," said Beverly, coming into the room. "Ann says it might take her a little while to find the address. She's pushing herself pretty hard, but Rin has an unlisted number, and his address isn't in any of the public databases. We might need Don for this. I made Ann go to bed. She should be resting. She's still not fully over that stomach bug she had last month."

"We will find the man," responded Splinter.

Lucille glanced at him and had to suppress a shiver. His dark eyes were burning with a cold fury.

_I'd hate to be in Rin's shoes about now. If this Michelangelo is anything like his father, Rin's let himself in for a world of trouble._


	19. Chapter 18 Accusing

**Chapter 18 ~_Accusing_~**

Michelangelo noticed that Leo and Raph were careful to keep him between them at all times on the way back to the Lair, but he felt too dull and sluggish to care.

_Hun didn't have them… He doesn't know where they are._ _Austin, Skylar, I'm comin' for you. I'm gonna find you. I'm gonna find the guys who did this and make them pay._

Donatello paced his younger brother, his worried brown eyes darting to his face every few paces. Mike ignored him. A picture of Austin, her face curving in a gentle smile, and Skylar's hazel eyes glowing with laughter, were fixed in his mind.

Soon they came to the warehouse at the corner of Eastman and Laird. Donatello punched the necessary buttons to release the security lock on the incongruous-looking door in the side of the building. The door slid aside, disappearing into a cleverly designed steel pocket. The door looked rickety but the reinforced steel frame hidden beneath the deceptive wood would withstand an impressive assault. The Turtles slipped into the warehouse, greeted by the familiar scents of motor oil and dust, and made their way over to the stone elevator.

Leo reached out, gripping Mike's shoulder.

"We're going to find them, Bro. We're going to get them back," he said quietly.

Mikey nodded without looking at his brother.

"I know."

"If Lucille's right and Austin's father paid them to take her, chances are good he wanted her alive and unharmed," said Donatello, glancing over his shoulder. "Mike, she's gonna be ok. You know Austin. She's going to do everything she can to protect Skylar."

"I know." Mike focused on the image in his mind. Austin, whole and happy, smiling. Skylar, safe in his arms.

_I'll have you both back soon, I promise. I'm gonna find you. I promised I'd always take care of my girls, and I will, no matter what. _

The four made their way silently across the dusty, dim space to the stone elevator.

"Mikey, you're going to have to talk to Austin's aunt." Leonardo spoke into the quiet hum of the elevator. "She'll be awake by now, and she'll probably want to meet you."

_The aunt. I almost forgot about her. The one who wanted to take Austin away, back to her mother, the one who abandoned her. _

"I… I dunno if I can, Leo." He passed a hand over his face, as if he could wipe away some of the exhaustion that was weighing on him. "She won't wanna talk to me anyway."

"Mike, Austin wanted you to meet Lucille, didn't she?" asked Leo, putting his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"I just… what if she hates me?" Michelangelo finally met his brother's gaze.

Leo returned his look steadily. Mike saw determination, courage, and worry there.

_Sorry, Leo. I guess we should've thought this through a little more. I thought Austin would be safe, going topside with Splinter. I thought it'd be ok for her aunt to meet Skylar. I thought we could handle this._

"What kinda person could hate you, Chucklehead?" asked Raphael. "Anyway, she's Austin's _aunt._ Besides, she seemed ok wit' Splinter."

"I… I don't know," said Mike as the elevator doors slid open. _What if she blames me for Austin getting taken? It's bad enough that I blame myself._

"Mikey, it's going to be all right." Donatello paused at the open doors. "We'll get Austin back. Lucille's information has given us a new place to look. Listen, we'll all get a little rest, and as soon as it's dark, we'll go get them, ok?"

Michelangelo nodded, moving out into the main room. Donatello put a hand on his plastron, stopping him a few steps out of the elevator.

"Hey. Mike. It's gonna be ok, Bro. We're in this together, remember? Brothers forever." He held out his fist.

Tears stung Michelangelo's eyes, but he blinked them away. This was no time to break down. He met Donatello's gaze, and saw the same mixture of worry and determination in the brown eyes as in the look Leo'd given him.

_My brothers. My team. My family. We can do anything together._

"Brothers forever," he murmured, bumping Don's fist with his own.

Raphael snorted, but slapped Mike on the shell as he passed. Leonardo just gave the pair a grim smile.

"Come on, Mikey," said Leo. "Let's go meet Aunt Lucille."

Michelangelo nodded. _Austin wanted me to meet her_, he thought. _And look where that got us. Austin and Skylar missing…_ _An' she thinks she knows who took 'em. We're gonna get 'em back. We are._

Sierra was standing up, turning toward them with a strained smile, as the Turtles approached the couch. A pleasant-looking older woman got up too, turning to face them as they came into the room. Mikey noticed how her eyes widened, but her expression looked more like wary fascination than fear. Sierra came around the couch and stood next to Leonardo, laying a hand on his arm.

"I'm glad you're home safely."

Michelangelo was grateful, for once, for his brother's restraint. He didn't think he could stand to see any of his brothers with their wives just now. Leonardo was not in the habit of elaborate displays of affection, at least in front of the family, but Michelangelo had seen him and Sierra exchange tender looks, and, once had caught them in an unguarded moment when he walked into the dojo early in the morning, kissing as passionately as any teenagers. He knew Leonardo and Sierra could be as goofy and affectionate as he was with Austin… he felt a pang at the thought, and the ache to hold her rose up so sharply it was a physical pain radiating from his chest.

"Lucille," Sierra turned to face the woman standing next to the couch. "This is my husband, Leonardo."

The woman came forward, hesitating slightly at the sight of the Turtles, but she remained composed. Michelangelo's breath caught at the sight of her. She had smooth brown hair, the color of Austin's, but Lucille's curls fell around her shoulders, framing a pleasant, faintly-lined face, and soft eyes.

Michelangelo couldn't help staring. Her eyes… It was like looking into an older version of Austin's face, but instead of hazel eyes, Lucille's were brown. There was something about the woman, a practiced calm that set what Mike often referred to as his 'spidey senses' to tingling.

_She can't be in on this. Not her aunt. But it seems awfully convenient that the night she wanted to meet Austin, this happened... and now she points us in the direction of the kidnapper… _Mike's thoughts tumbled over in his mind, confused and confusing.

"Welcome to our home, Lucille-san." Leonardo gave her one of his small, formal bows.

Lucille bowed her head in acknowledgment of the greeting, but she was already turning to Michelangelo. He had to stifle the instinct to take a step back. He watched her, wary, his hands resting on his nunchucks.

"You must be Michelangelo," said Lucille.

"Yeah. It's umm… nice to meet you," said Mikey. _But if you had anything to do with this, you're gonna regret the day you ever saw Austin,_ he added mentally.

"I'm sorry we're meeting under such difficult circumstances," said Lucille. She moved forward, holding out a hand as if she'd touch him. She must've seen the way his shoulders went hard and tight and his hands fastened on the nunchucks, because she hesitated. "It… must have been difficult for you, deciding to let Austin tell me about you… about Skylar," she said softly. "I'm honored by your trust."

For an instant, Mike wanted to like her, but he fought the instinctive reaction.

_Stupid. That's my problem, I always trust too easily. I trusted Splinter to take care of them, and now they're missing. I should've been there. I should've been the one. _

"Austin… Austin's the best." _But Austin trusted her._

Lucille smiled. "She speaks highly of you," she said gently.

"We want to thank you," Leo spoke up. "For helping us to find Austin and Skylar."

"I just hope I'm right," said Lucille, glancing at the blue-masked mutant.

"I'm sure you are," said Leo.

Lucille nodded, confident. "I've known Rin Abramson for over twenty years," she said. "From what those men said, I believe he has Austin."

"He… he won't hurt her… will he?"

Michelangelo forced the words out, past the tight place in his chest. He watched Lucille intensely, searching for any sign she might've betrayed Austin. Lucille turned to face him. Alarm flickered over her features for an instant, before understanding, and then sympathy took over.

"I don't think so, no," she said gently. "You must love her very much."

Michelangelo nodded. "Austin… She's my best friend," he said. He'd seen the startled look she'd given him, and suspicion was warring with sense. He wanted to be sure she got the message. The _whole_ message.

"If I find out you had anything… _anything_ to do with them disappearing, family or no, I won't hesitate to take you _apart._"

Lucille took a step back, alarm showing clearly now. Michelangelo took a sort of twisted pleasure in the fear on the woman's face. _That's right. You mess with my family, you'd better be scared,_ he thought.

"Hamato Michelangelo!"

Suddenly a pair of green eyes was blazing inches from his own. It was Mike's turn to take a step back as his sister-in-law leaned forward, glaring.

"You apologize to Lucille this _instant._ She's been nothing but kind, and worried for Austin and Skylar. Goodness knows she has as much reason to be upset and angry as the rest of us, but instead of storming about or blaming anyone for this, she's waited here with us patiently. She's been polite to your father, and she's been more composed than _I_ was the first time I met you all! Austin is her _niece_, Mike, like Skylar is mine! We are a _family, _and we're all in this together. What do you think Austin would say if she heard you speak to her aunt that way?"

Mikey blinked. He'd rarely seen Sierra angry, and she almost never lost her temper. He glanced at Leonardo, who was watching him with disapproval, but his brother's face softened.

Mike, I know you're upset, but Sierra's right," said Leo, gripping his shoulder. "Listen, why don't you go and get some rest, Bro?"

"Um, yeah, I… I guess that… might be a good idea." Michelangelo glanced toward Lucille and saw that she was staring at him now, with shock and the beginnings of anger. _Aww, shell. _

"I… I'm sorry," he mumbled.

A frown creased the woman's brow, and Mike looked away in sudden shame. _I'm sorry, Austin. I let you down… I screwed up, again._

Lucille hesitated for a moment before coming forward. She reached out, ignoring his tension this time, and grasped Michelangelo's hand in both of her own.

"I accept your apology," she said softly. "It's obvious you're distraught, Michelangelo. You must love Austin very much."

He nodded dully. _But it wasn't enough to keep her safe._

"Mike, why don't you use our room," suggested Sierra gently.

Michelangelo looked at his sister in law, confused, but she simply took him by the arm and guided him toward the stairs. He let her lead him without protest. His legs felt heavy, leaden. Sierra didn't let go of his arm until she'd brought him into the room she shared with Leonardo, making him lie down on the bed and gently helping him remove his mask, belt and pads. She stacked them, folded together with his nunchucks, on the floor next to the bed, and pulled the blanket over his shoulders.

"We're gonna find 'er," he muttered into Leonardo's pillow.

"Of course we are, Mikey. You're going to find her, you and your brothers, and you're going to bring them home."

She went out, closing the door quietly behind her. Mike breathed in his older brother's familiar scent, snuggling into his pillow as he had when they were children and he'd climb into Leonardo's bed after a nightmare.

He closed his eyes and let the darkness take him.


	20. Chapter 19 Confrontation

**A/N: Due to an operator error (aka Mary buffed up), Chapter 20 was posted a day early... What it boils down to is, due to my lack of technological expertise, you get an extra chapter today. :)**

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**Chapter 19 ~_Confrontation_~**

Austin leaned back against the headboard with a sigh. Now that the initial adrenaline and anger had worn off, she was… bored. Supremely and epically bored. Incredibly, undeniably, and bitterly bored. Bored to the point of considering waking Skylar up, simply to have her daughter's company.

_Better to let her sleep,_ she thought. _Waking her now will only make her cranky. She'll need to eat soon. She'll need diapers… Surely he can't deny me the right to care for my child. It's a good thing I decided to nurse Skylar rather than feed her formula. At least she won't starve, but she's eating solids now too. Nursing isn't enough for her any more. I hope Father doesn't intend to starve us as well as keeping us captive. _

_Oh, Michelangelo. I've really done it this time. I exposed Skylar to my family, and look where it got us. _

Austin sighed again.

"I miss your daddy, _sai-ai_ _musume_," she whispered.

The only reply was the soft sound of Skylar's breathing.

_He'll come. He'll find me. They always come,_ she thought. _I just hope Splinter… He's ok. He's got to be._ She frowned, fighting back the tears that threatened.

_And Aunt Luci… I heard her cry out… If they've hurt her… Oh, Aunt Luci, I'm so sorry. I should never have allowed you to get involved in all this. What was I thinking?_

Beside her, the tiny Turtle stirred, cooing softly in her sleep. Austin smoothed a gentle finger over the baby's shell.

"Hush, little one, Mamma's here," she whispered.

Skylar snuggled her cheek against the bedspread, tucking her fingers into her mouth and sucking contentedly. Austin couldn't repress a smile. Even in such dire circumstances, the baby trusted her to make things right. Austin began to sing softly.

_Haru? haru; Sakura, sakura, yayoi no sora wa… Miwatasu kagiri… Kasumi ka… kumo ka… _

She heard a sound at the door, but ignored it, willing whoever had come to go away. She had no desire to speak with Rin.

_Nioizo Izuru… Izaya, izaya,…Mi ni yukan… Haru ga kita, Haru ga kita:  
Sakura, sakura…_

A new voice joined her song, soft, low. Austin winced, but still refused to look up. She trailed off as her father finished the song.

_Sakura, sakura… yayoi no sora wa… Miwatasu kagiri… Kasumi ka kumo ka…  
Nioizo Izuru… Izaya, izaya… Mi ni yukan._

"Your mother used to sing that to you," her father remarked. Austin spared him a steely glance. "I taught it to her, you know. She asked me to teach her Japanese songs to sing to you. She wanted you to understand your heritage."

He was standing in the doorway, leaning casually against the frame. She tensed, debating the wisdom of launching herself at her father, but common sense won out. Skylar had to be protected at all costs, and her father was a formidable martial artist. Better to wait, to use her patience as a weapon.

_A warrior recognizes the need for opportunity. _Splinter's words echoed in her mind, from a training. _A direct attack is not always best. Sometimes a warrior must wait for the best chance to obtain victory. Patience is as great a virtue as courage._

Rin's eyes narrowed and Austin knew he'd seen the intention in her mind. They had trained together for too many years; he knew her too well. He watched her for a moment before his own instinctive stance relaxed.

"Daughter. You were once my student." His voice was stiff with anger. "Why do you disrespect me this way?"

"Respect is earned." Austin's chin came up. "You have done nothing to earn mine, _Father._"

Rin glared.

"No matter," he growled, half to himself. "You will obey me. You will speak with your grandfather. You will express gratitude, and you will tell him you would be honored if he left his estate to _me._"

"Grandfather? Is he ill?" For the first time, Austin's resolve wavered. She'd never been particularly close to the old man, but she remembered him with a sort of awe as the patriarch and ruler of the family. At least until the fateful argument and Rin's subsequent decision to approach Oroku Saki for a loan.

"He is dying," Rin said coldly. "And I can see that this news causes you more distress than your mother's illness apparently did. Or will you refuse to see him as well?"

"How did you know about Mother?"

Austin stood to face him, her hands balling into fists at her side.

"I have my ways," Rin replied smoothly. "Did you think she ever truly escaped me, Austin? Did you think _you_ could? I know about the conversation you had with Lucille. I know that you refused to return to your dying mother's side."

Austin glared, refusing to answer, though tears stung her eyes.

"She left you," he said, his voice soft now. "She walked out of here and left you, left her _family_ behind. You were right to refuse to see her, Austin_-chan_. She doesn't _deserve_ to see you. She walked out on you, on us. We were always a team. I did my best to raise you, to support you and bring you up properly…"

"Until you sold me to Karai!"

"Daughter, you know that we needed the money! We owed a debt I could not pay. Oroku Karai offered us a reasonable solution, one that preserved both our honor and our lives."

"So you sent me to serve a dishonorable Clan?"

"Oroku Karai is not her father," said Rin stiffly. "She dealt honorably with me."

"She has no honor, Father. She is like her father was, self-serving and cold."

"And you are like _your_ father, Austin. Willful, determined, courageous." Rin sounded almost as if he admired her. For an instant, a warm glow lit in Austin's chest. Her father's approval had never been easy to acquire, and it was a heady feeling.

Rin moved across the room, approaching the bed. Before he could come near Skylar, Austin positioned herself in front of him, blocking his path.

"Don't you _touch_ her," she growled.

"Would you deny me an opportunity to study your little pet?" His eyebrow quirked.

"Her name is Hamato Skylar Raine. She's my daughter, and your _granddaughter_."

Rin's face darkened. "That… that thing? She is no granddaughter of mine," he scoffed, barely concealing his anger. "You dishonor our family, Daughter."

"It is you who bring dishonor to our name, Father," Austin replied coldly.

She saw his hand twitch, but made no effort to avoid the slap. Rin stood shaking, his face red with fury. Austin's cheek stung where his hand had connected.

"You will regret that," she said softly, watching with satisfaction as his eyes widened in surprise.

"Michelangelo will come, Father. My husband will avenge every moment we are apart from him. He will make you pay for every mark he finds on my body. If you so much as lay a _finger_ on Skylar, you will wish you had never been born. My husband, my brothers, my _family_, will come for me. I don't belong to you any more. I am no longer your daughter."

She turned away, stalking to the bed. She lifted up the squirming Turtle babe and cradled her on her shoulder. Standing, she glared defiantly at her father. "You have one chance. Let us go now, and you might be spared his wrath."

He shook his head. "You have defied me, Daughter." His tone was dangerous. "Do not presume that my affection will prevent me from punishing you."

"Try," scoffed Austin. "And I guarantee you will pay, and pay dearly."

"Enough of this. We will go to your grandfather tomorrow morning. You will speak with him. You will tell him you want the will changed. You will say that you wish me to be honored in my father's memory."

Rin crossed the room, approaching so swiftly Austin didn't have time to do more than back away. He paused, his dark eyes glinting.

"If you don't want this… _creature_ harmed, you will cooperate, _musume._"

"I am _not_ your daughter. I will not help you," snapped Austin. "And if you touch Skylar, I will make you pay _myself._"

Rin smiled grimly. "You will do as I say, or this _thing_ you hold so dear will suffer." Reaching out, he barely brushed Skylar's shell with a finger.

Austin knocked his hand away with her free one, but Rin's smile only widened.

"I think you will find, _Daughter_, that you have little choice."

With that, he turned and stalked out of the room, locking the door firmly behind him.


	21. Chapter 20 Impatient

**Chapter 20 ~_Impatient_~**

Hamato Leonardo was rarely impatient. He was, by nature, methodical, planning each move before he made it, considering the alternatives and consequences wrapped up in any action.

Tonight, though, he was sick and tired of waiting around, and he was ready to _move_. Austin and Skylar had been missing for nearly twenty-four hours, and even the knowledge that her it was most likely her own father who was holding her hostage didn't make Leo feel any better about his sister-in-law's abduction.

He ran through his third kata again, the katana slicing through the air like liquid silver. He used the faint scent of hot wax and candle smoke to orient himself as he paused, imagining his opponent's next move, the possible retaliatory moves running through his mind, before swinging his sword through the air. Leonardo felt the faintest shift in the air. He froze mid-movement, awareness rippling through him like an electric shock. Before his conscious mind could tell his hand to withdraw, he was pulling his sword back and yanking his mask around so that he could through the eye-holes.

"Miss Chesney!"

"I… I'm sorry. I… didn't mean to intrude…" She was backing away, fear etched deeply into the lines of her face. "I only saw the candle… I didn't know you were in here."

"Didn't anyone tell you to stay out of the dojo?" Leo asked, his voice made sharp by the shock of nearly cutting his sister-in-law's aunt in half.

"No. I… heard sounds from here… I was curious. I'm sorry," she said again. She stood still now, trembling, watching him warily as he sheathed his katana and stalked to the doorway to flip the switch, illuminating the room.

"It's all right," he replied a bit stiffly, giving her a brief bow. "I didn't mean to snap at you."

Lucille relaxed slightly. She shook her head. "No, I apologize. I am a guest in your home. I shouldn't go poking around uninvited."

Leonardo acknowledged her words with a brief nod, but softened it with a smile. "Would you like a cup of tea?" he asked politely. He was startled when Lucille wrinkled her nose in distaste.

"I've drunk enough tea tonight to float a battleship," she told him. "Sierra seemed to think I needed calming."

The Turtle chuckled. "She's used to making tea for Sensei and myself," he explained.

"She's a lovely young woman," said Lucille with genuine warmth. "It's obvious she cares for you all very much."

Leo cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. He met the woman's eyes. She was watching him with a knowing expression. For an instant, Leo was reminded of Splinter. A weak smile tugged at his lips in spite of himself.

"Sierra is amazing," he said softly. "I am… very lucky."

Lucille nodded. "What were you doing, before I interrupted?" she asked.

"Training."

"So you wield the katanas? I've never seen them used in a pair before," she said, sounding interested.

"They're often used as a single weapon," replied Leo, startled by her apparent knowledge. "Or with a _wakizashi_, a short sword, as a back up."

Lucille nodded. "Fascinating. Does Austin still prefer a han-bo?"

The Turtle stared, shocked. "How did you know?"

"Her father tried to train her to use a sword at first," answered Lucille. "But she has an affinity for wood… she always did. When she was seven, I gave her a bonsai tree. When Janey left, she took it away with her. She was afraid Rin would destroy it, simply because I'd been the one to give it to Austin, and she knew how much Austin loved that little tree." She shook her head sadly. "He's taken so much from her."

"He's not going to take anything else," said Leonardo. "We'll see to that."

"You're so certain. Rin is trained in martial arts as well," said Lucille.

"We'll get our own back," said Leonardo with certainty. "Don't worry."

"And…" the woman hesitated. "Will you… kill him?"

Leonardo met her eyes. "Not if we can help it," he said quietly. "We don't kill unless we absolutely must." His stomach twinged, the memory of eyes, the life fading from them as hot blood spilled out across the floor at his feet, swam through his mind, but he forced it away. _I am forgiven,_ he thought firmly. _The past must remain in the past. Austin is my concern now, and Skylar. We've got to get them back._

Lucille stepped closer, studying him. Leonardo met her eyes, watching her warily. The woman nodded, apparently unfazed by his steady gaze and satisfied by what she saw, and gave Leonardo a warm smile.

"It's clear that Austin has found a family to care for her," she said softly. "I am glad for her. Would you mind if I sat with you while you have a cup of tea? Perhaps you can tell me a little more about your family."

"I will have to leave soon," he said. "We're going as soon as it's dark."

"You're going after her tonight?"

"Yes."

"Good." Lucille drew a deep, shaky breath. "I don't know how much more of this waiting I can bear."

Leonardo inclined his head in agreement and allowed the woman to precede him into the kitchen. Splinter was already there, pouring from the cracked pot.

"Hello, Sensei."

The Rat acknowledged the greeting with a nod as Leonardo fetched a second cup from the cupboard.

"Good evening, Splinter." Lucille spoke almost timidly.

Splinter turned as if startled, his whiskers twitching slightly. Leo's eyes widened. Splinter had always seemed unmovable to him, unshakable.

_He must be more concerned than he's letting on, to be so distracted,_ thought Leo. _Don't worry, Father. We'll get them back._

"Good evening, Lucille-san," said Splinter. Leonardo decided he must've imagined his father's reaction to the woman.

He moved to pull out a chair for Lucille, before taking his own seat. To his surprise, Splinter joined them at the table instead of retreating to his room as was often his habit.

"Are you prepared for this evening's mission, my son?"

"Yes, Sensei."

Leonardo knew, even as the words left his mouth, that his slight hesitation had betrayed him. He knew without looking up that Splinter's ears had swiveled forward and he could feel his father's black eyes on him.

"Something troubles you?"

Leo sighed. _I can handle this, Father._ He looked up, knowing it was a mistake, but compelled by years of training. Splinter's gaze was steady and calm.

"It's Michelangelo." The words came forth of their own accord, but it was a relief to share the burden. "I'm concerned, Father. When we were…" He glanced at Lucille, considering his words. "Interrogating Hun, he…" The woman's eyes were locked on his face. Leonardo kept his gaze carefully on his father. "He was a little… zealous. We… stopped him from doing anything unfortunate, Father, but… Well, to be honest I've never seen Mikey like that. He's very worried for Austin."

Splinter nodded, taking a calm, slow sip of his tea.

"I will accompany you tonight."

Leonardo shifted in the chair, uncertain how to respond. He focused his gaze on the wall behind Lucille, watching a drop of water make its way down the surface.

_Looks like that pipe might be leaking again. I'll have to ask Don to take a look._ The thought strayed absently through his mind as he worked to formulate an answer.

"You're going with them?" Lucille's question shattered the silence, startling Leo. He'd nearly forgotten the woman was in the room.

"Yes."

Splinter's answer was so firm, Leonardo knew there was no arguing with the Rat. He stifled a sigh.

_Great. Now I need to keep an eye on Sensei as well as Michelangelo,_ he thought.

"Are you sure, Master?" he asked quietly. "Your recent injury…"

"I am strong enough for this, my son," replied Splinter, giving him a knowing look. "Do not worry. I will not get in the way."

"I didn't mean…"

"Please, excuse me. You will let me know when you are ready to leave, Leonardo?"

"_Hai_, Sensei."

Splinter nodded to their guest, and tapped quietly out of the room.

"He really is a remarkable person," said Lucille quietly.

"He is," Leo agreed, taking a sip of his tea.

"You don't think he should go, do you?" She was watching him now, her brown eyes inscrutable.

"I didn't say that," answered Leo a bit stiffly.

Lucille's laugh startled him. It was a clear, gentle sound, so much like Austin's own that Leo's heart twisted.

"I may seem like a foolish old woman to you," she said, smiling, "But I can see as well as I ever could. Don't worry so much, Leonardo. I have the feeling your father knows what he's about."

The Turtle gaped for a moment, uncertain how to answer.

Lucille just smiled. "I think I'll just get out of your way," she said gently. "Perhaps I might keep Beverly and Kouki company while you boys go after Austin."

Leonardo nodded. He was thrown slightly offbalance by the speed of the woman's perception. _She's learned a lot about us in a very short time. I can see where Austin gets it,_ he thought.

She stood up, pushing in the chair. "Leonardo?"

"Yes, Ms. Chesney?"

"Good luck."


	22. Chapter 21 Perchance to Dream

**Chapter 21 ~_Perchance to Dream_**~

Raphael heard stirring from Leo's room and was immediately tense. The woman hanging around the Lair made him edgy. Strangers always did. Since he knew Leo was in the kitchen, and he'd just seen Sierra head down the stairs, no one should've been in their private quarters. Raph approached the door, his hand on his sai. He didn't actually draw the weapon, not yet. He couldn't quite get the memory of knocking Lucille unconscious at their first meeting out of his mind. In spite of his irritation at her presence, he didn't want to terrorize the woman.

The door swung open before Raph could reach the handle. He fell back a step, a faint growl sounding deep in his throat. Michelangelo staggered forward a few feet and Raphael lunged forward, instinctively catching his brother with one arm.

"Mikey? Easy, there, Bro. You ok?" Raph found bleary blue eyes peering into his own.

"Raphy?" Mike raised a hand to rub his face.

For an instant, Raphael was reminded of another time, when they were very young.

_Raphy, can I sleep wit' you? I had a bad dream._

_Yeah, jus' don' go peein' da bed, Chucklehead._

He'd been secretly proud, years ago, of being the one who could always chase Mikey's nightmare monsters away.

_Aww, Mike. I wish I could make dis nightmare go away too,_ he thought, tightening his arm around his brother's shoulders for a moment. Mike straightened, and Raph let him go.

"I was dreamin… Austin… somebody took her…" Michelangelo looked into his brother's eyes with the same pleading look he'd given him when they were children. _Can I sleep with you, Raphy?_

"It weren't a dream, Mike," said Raphael gruffly. "But we're gonna get 'em back. They're gonna be ok, an' da guys who took 'em are gonna pay. Don't you worry. I'll take care o' dem."

"I know, Raph," Mikey mumbled. His eyes had hardened into determination, but his expression was calmer, less crazed, than it had been. He looked more like the brother Raphael was used to seeing, the brother who would fight for his family, _with_ his family. "We'll get them back."

"We will, Mike. Right now, Bro, you need ta get somet'in ta eat, ok? Leo was sayin' we'd be ready to leave soon. Can't have ya passin' out on us," Raphael took his brother's arm in a deliberately gentle grip and led him down the stairs to the kitchen. He got Mike to sit in a chair, and turned to the 'fridge, casing it quickly and grabbing out a large bowl of tuna salad and a couple cans of soda.

"Here ya go, Mike," he said, opening one of the cans and setting it on the table. "Drink somet'in an' I'll make us a couple o' sandwiches."

"Ok Raph." Michelangelo slumped forward, leaning his elbows on the table. When Raphael glared pointedly at him, he picked up the soda and took a pull, making a face at the sweet taste he normally loved.

"I shoulda been there, Raph," he said quietly.

"Now, don't you start dat again, Mike," Raph replied. "You were helpin' Don, like Fearless asked ya to. We're a team, remember?"

"Leo doesn't even know what we were doing," answered Mikey dully. Raphael glanced at him, startled. Blue eyes turned up to his, nearly pleading. "We were savin' some Foot kid… The guy Leo killed when we got Sierra back that time was his Dad so Don figured we owed him, you know? It's about honor somehow… we couldn't let the little dude get murdered… but now Austin an' Skylar are gone and it's all my fault."

"Whoa, Mikey, what're ya talkin' about? Who'd Leo kill?" Raphael sat down at the table, sliding a plate with a thick tuna sandwich toward Mikey.

Michelangelo looked at the food as if it sickened him, pushing it away. "The guy Leo killed. The night we saved Sierra, remember?" he asked quietly. He wasn't looking at Raph now. He stared at his hands, clenched on the tabletop. "He had a kid. Donny found out the Foot were gonna kill him, so we went and took him out of the Children's home. We got him out and we took him to April. She's got some friends who're gonna adopt him."

"So… the night Austin and Skylar… you guys were out kidnappin' some human kid?" Raphael asked slowly, trying to wrap his head around what his brother was telling him.

"We didn't _kidnap_ him, Raph!" Mike protested. "They were _hurtin'_ him in that place. We had to get him outta there."

"An' Fearless doesn't know about the kid?"

Michelangelo shook his head. "Donny didn't wanna tell him. Master Splinter says he's got to, now that the kid's safe."

"Splinter's right, Mike," said Raphael slowly. "Leo's gotta right to know."

"If I hadn't gone with Don, I'd have been there for her. I shoulda been there, Raph." Michelangelo looked past Raphael, seeming to see something that wasn't there. "I shoulda been there to fight for her."

"Mikey." Raph shook his head, irritation with his younger brothers warring with compassion for Michelangelo's obvious anguish.

"Bro, you did the right thing. Austin knew what you an' Don were doin', didn't she?" He knew it was nearly impossible to keep anything from their wives. It only made sense that Austin would've known what Mike was up to.

"Yeah."

"An' she wanted ya ta go, didn't she?" asked Raphael quietly.

"…Yeah." Tears were filling Mike's eyes now, spilling over and trickling down his cheeks.

"Mikey, she loves ya. She wanted ya ta do what ya did. We're _gonna_ get 'er back. Skylar too. I promise." _An' ya know a ninja don't make promises he can't keep._

Michelangelo didn't answer. He only nodded. "I've gotta get my gear," he said, standing up. Leaving the food untouched, he headed out of the kitchen.

Raphael looked at the sandwich and shook his head. Picking up the plate, he stuck it in the 'fridge and dumped the half-full soda into the sink.

"Raph, Mike, Don, you guys ready to go?" barked Leonardo from the living room.

Raphael's mouth twisted in a feral grin. _Finally_, some action.

"Let's roll, Fearless," he called, striding out of the kitchen. Mikey flipped down from the balcony, landing with barely a _thump_ behind him. Donatello slipped out of his lab, fussing with his duffle bag. Raphael noticed he avoided looking directly at Leo.

_Prob'ly feelin' guilty about dis whole mess, jus' like Mike. Well, we'll be straightenin' dis out as soon as we get Austin' an' Skylar back. I'll make sure o' dat, even if I gotta pound da shell outta my two little brothers fer bein' doofuses._

Leonardo's gaze swept over his assembled brothers, assessing. He gave one short nod and strode toward their father's room.

"Sensei, we're leaving," he called through the door.

To Raphael's surprise, Splinter's door slid open and the Rat stepped out.

"I am ready, my son."

"Yer comin' wit' us?" Raph asked, stunned. Their father rarely accompanied them on missions. Twice in a week was nearly unheard of.

"I am."

Raph nodded. _Guess Donny ain't da only one feelin' guilty. But it weren't yer fault, Sensei._

Still, Raph knew better than to express his thoughts to his father. "Cool. Let's go."

They filed toward the elevator, with Donatello rattling off the address, the route, how long it would take to get there, and precisely how they should proceed. Raphael tuned him out for the most part. Planning and strategy were Don and Leo's thing. He was just there to put as much muscle power behind his fists and sai as possible. He imagined what Austin's father's face would feel like under his fist, and smirked. He could hardly wait to meet the guy.

"Remember," Leo was lecturing. "Rin Abramson is trained in martial arts. Be prepared for _anything_."

Raph snorted. "We can handle 'im, Fearless."

"He trained Austin, Raph," answered Leo seriously. "Don't forget that."

Raphael met his brother's eyes and nodded thoughtfully.

_Dis just might turn out ta be fun after all_, he thought.

Since Abramson's apartment was on the lower East Side, the group piled into the Battle Shell. Leonardo uncharacteristically took a rear seat next to Raphael, motioning to Splinter to take the front. Raph scowled.

_Prob'ly wants to get in one last lecture before we get there. Don't worry, Fearless. I won't rough him up. Too much.  
_

"Raph. I need your help," said Leo without preamble.

Raphael stared. Of all the things he expected from his brother, that was not one of them. "Whatda ya mean, Fearless?"

"Splinter took a bad hit just last night," explained Leo. His eyes glinted in the dim interior light. He rubbed a hand over his face in a familiar, weary gesture. "And Mike… you saw what he was like with Hun. If Rin's harmed Austin…"

"If Austin's hurt, ya ain't gonna be able ta hold Mike back," said Raph flatly. "An' I wouldn't be da one ta try."

Leo nodded. "Lucille seemed pretty certain he wouldn't actually hurt her, but if we can't find her right away, we can't let Mikey attack him. We might need him to tell us where he's keeping her."

"So ya want me ta help keep an eye on Sensei, an' keep Mike from murderin' his father-in-law?"

Leonardo shot him an irritated glance, but nodded.

"You got it, Fearless," said Raph.

Some of the tension drained out of Leo. "Thanks, Bro," he said quietly.

Raphael nodded. "Hey, Leo."

"Yeah, Raph?"

"Ya know…" he hesitated. "Ya know how Mike's a chuckle-head an' all… an' Donny… sometimes he… well…" Raphael trailed off. He'd never been one to tattle on his younger brothers, but his protective instincts stretched to Leonardo as well, and he hated knowing that a bomb was about to drop on Leonardo with Don's news, and the feeling of being helpless to stop the detonation from happening.

"What about them?" Leo's eyes were narrow, suspicious now.

"Well, it's jus'… Ya know they love ya, right? I mean, they might be a couple o' screw-ups, but they're yer brothers." Raph made a helpless gesture.

"I know, Raph," said Leo with that infuriatingly calm tone that meant he didn't have a clue what his brother was on about and wasn't about to take the time to figure it out while he was in the middle of executing yet another life-or-death rescue mission.

"Whatevah, Fearless," snapped Raphael, sinking back in his seat.

_Let him find out about da kid da hard way. Mebbe it'll take him down a peg 'r two._

Even Raphael's own sarcasm seemed to set up an itch in his gut. He growled, more annoyed than ever, and tried to ignore the feeling.

_Whatevah. Donny'll hafta handle Fearless later. Right now we've gotta get Austin an' Skylar back._ His hands tightened comfortably on the handle of his sai._ I'm gonna enjoy takin' dis guy down._

Before long, Donatello was pulling the truck into a secluded alley, and the mutants were making their way across the rooftops, silent as the shadows they slipped through.


	23. Chapter 22 Invasion

**Chapter 22 ~_Invasion_~**

Rin Abramson moved restlessly across his office. The creature his daughter held so protectively… it seemed almost surreal.

_Where did she _find_ such a creature? It's never been like Austin to be so sentimental. I never allowed her to have pets, but she didn't complain. She never seemed overly fond of animals. Its eyes… it was an illusion, a trick of the light. For a moment, it looked almost human… almost as if… What is it about that thing that has turned her mind so? Where has she _been_ these past five years?_

Pacing across the carpet once more, Rin found no answers. He paused at the bar, reaching out to the heavy crystal decanter of fine scotch. He kept sake as well, but when stress threatened to overwhelm him, the soothing, smooth burn of good whiskey was like manna in the desert.

_I suppose I could get more information out of those thugs I hired to bring her in. They seemed familiar with the creature, and with Austin. _Rin's mouth twisted in distaste._ What has she been doing, that she's associating with such low company? She's just like her mother. I should've divorced Janey before we ever produced a child,_ he thought bitterly. _Father always liked her… favored her, even over me, his own son! I could do nothing right in his eyes, and Janey, she could do no wrong._

Rin set the crystal tumbler down on the desk with a _thump_, not even noticing that he'd spilled a drop of the liquid on the ebony surface. He moved restlessly around the desk to stare at a scroll hanging on the wall.

_Gi, yuu, jin, rie, shin, yo, chuu. Rectitude, courage, benevolence, respect, honesty, honor, loyalty._ Rin recited the seven principals of Bushido over in his mind, reaching out to just trace the corresponding symbols with his fingertips. The scroll felt soft under his hand, like the skin of a very old man, fragile but stronger than it appeared.

_I taught her, Father. I instilled these values in her, as you did in me. I taught her to honor our name, to be loyal to her clan, to _me_, but she has rejected me, rejected our family. She has no right to your estate. She has no right to be called your granddaughter! _

Rin turned away, snatching up the whiskey and throwing it back in one swallow.

"She will pay," he muttered to himself. "She will pay for dishonoring her family this way. I will be rid of the monstrous thing, and as soon as she has served her purpose, I will be rid of Austin as well. Her genes are weak. She has too much of Janey in her. I will find a new wife, someone to carry on our line. I _will_ make you proud, Father. You _will_ honor me. Me! Your son."

"You."

The voice had him spinning, taking an instinctive crouch. Rin's dark eyes scanned the room, narrow with fury.

"Who dares invade my home?" he growled.

"I do." The voice came from a darker space in the corner, near the window.

"Show yourself!" Rin growled.

"Gladly."

A cloaked figure stepped out of the shadow, stepping into the pool of light thrown by the desk lamp. Rin stared. The intruder stood just over four feet tall. His face was covered by the hood of his cloak, his hands tucked into the sleeves. There was something other-worldly about him, that had nothing to do with his odd garb.

"We have come for our daughter," growled the figure. There was a threat in his tone. "And my granddaughter."

"I don't know what you're talking about," snapped Rin, backing toward the fireplace. A sword hung in brackets above the mantle. Most visitors assumed it to be decorative, but Rin kept it honed to a deadly edge. Before he could reach for the handle, there was a whistling sound, and a clatter. Rin stared in absolute shock at the bo-shuriken that was lodged in the stone mantle, severing the cord that had suspended the sword. While his attention was distracted, the figure moved, and the sword was in his hand.

Rin stared as the slight figure raised its head, allowing the hood to fall back. He swore, backing away. Standing in front of him, holding his own sword in its hand, was what was unmistakably a four-foot-tall, walking, talking _Rat._

"What… what _are_ you?" he whispered.

"I am the father of your daughter's husband," answered the Rat, glaring. "You have stolen her from her family. We have come to retrieve her and her daughter."

"I don't…" Rin trailed off as he saw the black eyes go ice-cold. "You can't have her!" he shouted. "You can't take my daughter! Take the creature, but leave Austin!"

"Austin-chan will decide for herself whether she wishes to remain in your home," answered the Rat. "Now, take me to her, before my sons grow impatient."

"Your… sons?" Rin's world took another tilt. _There are more of this... this _thing?

"They are waiting outside." The Rat gestured toward the office door. "We thought it… unwise, for Austin's husband to meet you before he sees for himself that his wife and daughter are unharmed."

"Austin is... did you say his _wife_?"

"She has been wed to my son for five years," acknowledged the Rat. His voice was like ice.

"She has dishonored her father, her family!" exclaimed Rin, unable to contain his fury and disgust another instant. "She considers herself _married_ to a… a creature such as _yourself?_"

"Austin-chan is married to my _son._" The Rat's voice had gone soft, quiet. His onyx eyes were burning now. Rin felt his chest go cold. He wanted to look away but he couldn't take his gaze off the demonic glare of the creature staring him down. "She has been a fine wife and a fine daughter, and she has honored our Clan."

Rin was spared from having to formulate an answer by a _crash_. The door slammed against the wall, the knob driving through the dark red paint like a sword, leaving a gaping hole in Rin's carefully manicured wall. He could hardly get the breath to protest, however. He was greeted by the sight of a much-taller mutant, a _Turtle_ this time. The creature was wearing what Rin recognized as a traditional ninja's mask. It had leather guards at its knees and elbows and burning amber eyes that narrowed at the sight of him.

"Everyt'in ok in here, Sensei?" the Turtle growled.

"Yes, my son," answered the Rat. "Mr. Abramson was about to tell me where we might find Austin and Skylar-chan."

Faced with two furious demons, Rin felt his palms begin to sweat.

"She's… she's in the guest room… down the hall… but you can't… don't take her. She's my daughter!"

"We would not take Austin-chan against her will," answered the Rat, giving him a cold look. "She will choose where she wishes to be. We simply wish to be certain she is unharmed."

Footsteps told Rin there were more of the creatures in the hall. The red-masked one moved to the Rat's side.

"How're ya holdin' up, Sensei?" he asked solicitously.

"I am fine, Raphael," answered the Rat, his eyes never leaving Rin's face.

"Come on." A blue-masked Turtle appeared beside Rin, grasping his arm and propelling him toward the door. Rin stared, shocked for an instant. The creature had slipped into the room while he'd been staring at the Rat. He'd never even seen it enter.

Rin found himself unceremoniously hauled to the guest room. He was shocked and annoyed to see the doorjamb shattered and the door itself hanging on one hinge as if the lock had been circumvented by brute force.

"Everybody ok, Mikey?" asked the creature holding Rin's arm.

"Yeah, Leo. They're ok," answered an orange-masked creature.

Rin stared. He could no longer feel his feet on the floor. Austin was standing in front of the creature, her arms wrapped as far around its shell as they would go. The Turtle was holding her. At first Rin thought it was attacking her, but he saw the way she was laying her cheek against its plastron, and the protective way it nuzzled her head.

A whimper from his left had his head snapping around to face a forth Turtle, who was cradling Austin's tiny Turtle creature against its plastron and checking it over as if searching for injuries.

"She's ok, Leo. They're both fine," said the creature.

Rin blinked. If he hadn't seen the thing before he heard it speak, he would've assumed it to be human. It sounded almost… intelligent. Too intelligent. He shook his head, trying to get back some grasp of reality.

"Austin," he said.

His daughter released the Turtle and turned to face him, her hazel eyes flashing.

"I told you," she said. "I told you they'd come. You will never touch me or my daughter again, Father. You will leave us alone. We're leaving now, and we're never coming back."

"You can't." The thought of losing all he'd worked so hard for, all he _deserved_, put some of the steel back into Rin's backbone. He jerked away from the blue-masked Turtle who was still holding his arm. The three creatures surrounding him tensed, but didn't attack. The orange-masked one behind Austin growled softly, its hands going to the nunchucks tucked into its belt as it moved in front of Austin as if it would defend her from him.

Rin ignored the creature. "You can't just leave like this, Austin. You have an obligation to me! I am your father!"

"You stopped being my father a long time ago," answered Austin. She stepped forward, around the Turtle. He half turned as if to stop her, but she laid a hand on his arm and he went still, allowing her to face her father. "I'm sorry, but I don't want Grandfather's money. I don't want anything from this family, and I don't want _you._ We're leaving now. Good bye, Father."

She turned back to the Turtle, taking his hand in a familiar gesture. "Come on, _itoshi_," she said softly. "I want to go home."

"Let's go," said the Turtle. "The guys will take you down to the van, Austin. I wanna have a little talk with your dad here." The creature's grip on the nunchucks tightened. Rin met his gaze. The blue eyes were cold as frozen steel, boring into his.

"Mikey, no." Austin turned, laying her hand on his plastron. "He's not worth it. Let's just go. Mike... look at me."

The Turtle looked into Austin's eyes, and Rin saw a softening in its face. "Austin, I..."

She reached up, cupping his cheek with a tenderness that turned Rin's stomach.

"Mikey, please. I know... but he's my father, and Skylar and I are ok. Please, Mike. For me. Walk away, this once. Let it go."

The Turtle's eyes never left Austin's face. His internal struggle showed clearly in the tremors that shook the hands fastened on the nunchucks, and the way his brow knit in a deep frown. Finally he sighed and the tension drained away. Rin found himself letting out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding.

"Ok, Babe, if that's what you want."

The creature's gaze snapped back up to Rin's face, so cold and hard it took Rin's breath away like a blast of freezing air.

"But if you _ever_ come near my family again, I promise you will regret it. I'll make sure of it. I'm letting this go, once, for Austin. It won't happen again."

Austin reached out, grasping the creature's hand. She led him silently toward the door. The others seemed to take it as a cue. The purple-masked Turtle carried the baby, turning slightly as he passed Rin as if to shield the child with his shell, though he gave Rin a brown-eyed glare as he passed. Rin was struck again with the depth of intelligence in the creature's gaze. The blue-masked creature followed the other two. The one in the red mask flanked him, watching Rin warily through narrowed eyes. Finally the Rat turned to follow them.

"You can't do this," cried Rin once more. "She's my _daughter._"

He reached out, grasping at the Rat's shoulder. He expected it to be weak, easily dealt with, but he found his own wrist in an iron grip. He was thrown over a narrow but muscular shoulder and found himself flying across the room before it registered in his mind that his opponent was not as frail as he appeared.

"Splintah!" A flash of dark green and red, and cold steel pressed against Rin's windpipe, discouraging him from even attempting to move. He glared into the amber eyes of the red-masked creature, daring it to finish him.

"Raphael!" The Rat's voice snapped like a whip.

The sai was removed from Rin's neck and the Turtle stepped back, disgust twisting its features.

"Ya all right, Sensei?"

"I am fine, Raphael. Let us go."

The creatures were gone before Rin could find his feet, leaving him standing in an empty room, staring at his splintered door and wondering how the _hell_ everything had gone so dreadfully wrong.

_It's all Austin's fault,_ he thought bitterly. _She's gone crazy. Completely and totally out of her mind._ _Imagine, consorting with a bunch of… whatever those were. Thinking she's married to the creature! She's clearly delusional… Doesn't know what she wants or needs, just like her mother…_

A cold smile spread across Rin's features as the beginnings of a plan began forming in his mind.


	24. Chapter 23 Confession

**Chapter 23 ~_Confession_**~

Donatello cradled Skylar against his plastron, uncomfortably reminded of another child he'd carried much the same way only the night before.

"It's good to see you," he whispered to the baby. "Kouki has missed you. And so has your daddy." He glanced at his brother, who was moving like a ghost a few steps in front of him, his arm protectively around Austin's waist. The woman was leaning into his side, speaking softly to him. In his arms, Skylar began squirming, whimpering. Michelangelo turned instantly, reaching for her with a worried expression.

"She's probably hungry," said Austin softly. "He didn't offer us anything to eat. She nursed a little while ago but she really needs something more substantial."

"I'm gonna fix you the best dinner you ever ate," crooned Mikey.

Don let his brother gather his daughter out of his arms. The baby stopped fussing and a wide smile broke out over her face at the sight of her father. She reached up, touching his cheek, and stretched to reach for his mask. Don saw tears well in Mikey's eyes. He snuggled his face against Skylar's plastron.

She immediately grabbed his mask with both hands, squealing with delight and yanking at the material. Michelangelo's shoulders were shaking.

"Hey. Mike, it's ok. We're ok." Austin wrapped him up in a firm embrace, holding him close with Skylar sandwiched between them.

"I shouldn't have let you go alone. I'm sorry," he whispered.

Don put his hand on his brother's shoulder. "Come on, Mike. We've got to get them home."

Michelangelo lifted his head. Skylar pulled his mask off entirely, stuffing the material into her mouth with a giggle.

"Oh, no, sweetie, don't eat Daddy's mask," said Austin. She laughed, tugging the mask gently out of the baby's mouth. She tried to pry Skylar's fingers loose, but Mikey shook his head.

"Let her keep it," he said softly.

Austin wound her arm around him. "Come on. Let's go home." She led him toward the van. Raphael followed Splinter into the van. Leo held back, letting Austin and Mikey climb in with the baby before gesturing to Don. Donatello took his place in the front seat, uneasy as his eldest brother settled in beside him, in his usual place. Splinter sat in the back, as calm and unruffled as if they'd been out for a stroll in the park, but Don could feel his father's eyes on him and he knew the time had come to speak to Leonardo.

Leo settled into his seat. "Let's get home, Donny." He sat back, relaxing for the first time since Austin had disappeared.

"You got it, Bro," answered Don weakly. He shifted the truck and eased out of the alley, heading back toward the warehouse.

_Better now than later,_ he thought. _While he's still in a good mood._

"Leo…"

"Yeah, Donny?"

"I um… Well…"

"What is it, Don?" Leonardo's attention sharpened on his younger brother.

Donatello shifted uncomfortably. "Nothing! Well, I mean, nothing to worry about, Bro," he said with a weak laugh. "I just… umm… well, you know the night Austin and Skylar were taken…"

"What about it?" Leonardo was watching him now. Don could almost see his thoughts turning over as he tried to puzzle out what his brother was getting at.

"Well, Mike and I… We… Umm. I mean, Splinter knew where we were going, but he… he thought I should tell you." Don kept his eyes firmly on the road, though the sweat was beading on the back of his neck.

"Ok. Where were you guys that night? I thought you were running surveillance…"

"Leo… Aiko… The Foot soldier who died the night we rescued Sierra…" He heard his brother's breathing hitch and he winced.

"The man I killed. What about him?" Leonardo's voice was steady, but Don could feel his brother's eyes on him.

There was no easy way to say it. "Leo. He had a son."

The indrawn breath was loud in the cab of the Battle Shell. Donatello risked a glance at his brother. Leo's eyes were hooded in the shadows. Finally, slowly, he nodded.

"How did you find this out?"

Some of the tightness in Don's chest eased. Discussing information and how it'd been gathered was easier, more familiar ground, the kind of thing he was used to imparting as they planned their strategies.

"When you asked me to search the Foot's files for information on their latest activities, I found a personal log entry from Karai's second in command. Apparently he was in love with the boy's mother. She died after Aiko… Anyway, Masaru took the boy and abandoned him at the children's home."

Leonardo muttered something under his breath, but nodded, motioning to Don to continue.

Donatello drew a deep breath. "Masaru… he's crazy. He wrote that he intended to kill him, Leo. I… we… couldn't let it happen. The night Austin and Skylar were taken… Mike and I… we… we retrieved the boy. We took him to April. She has friends, an infertile couple who were willing to adopt him."

Leonardo was silent for so long, Don glanced over at him. The leader of the Clan was staring out the windshield into the night.

"Did you have any trouble?"

Don nodded reluctantly. "We interrupted him. There was a fight, but Mike and I took him down. We left him tied up and took the boy to April's."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Leonardo's voice was soft. There was no anger, but the hurt and confusion… it was worse than if he'd shouted.

"Leo, I… I was worried… I mean, the way you were after… I didn't know how you'd feel about the boy. I couldn't let him… I mean, he's just a little older than Kouki. I couldn't let him die, Leo."

"I know." Leonardo turned slowly to look at his brother. "Donny, I just wish you'd trusted me with this. Raph and I could've gone with you. You and Mike shouldn't have tried to handle it on your own. We're a _team_, Bro. We've got to work together."

"Leo… Don pulled into the warehouse and switched off the ignition. He leaned forward, resting his forehead on the steering wheel. The others filed out of the van silently, leaving Donatello and Leonardo sitting in the front seats.

The side door slid closed, encasing the pair in the silence of the cab.

"Leo," Donatello tried again. "Bro, after Aiko died… You were… Bro, it was scary. I was afraid…"

"I know, Don." Leonardo interrupted. A warm hand landed on Don's shoulder, gripping it firmly. "I'm sorry. I promise you, I'm ok now."

"I know." Donatello forced himself to look at his older brother. "I know you are. It was just, finding that entry… finding out the guy had a _kid._ And he's an orphan now. The mother committed suicide… Leo, I couldn't leave him there. I couldn't. I felt…"

"You felt responsible. You were right. I took away his father," said Leonardo softly. "Donny, I get it. And you did the right thing, but you should've told me."

"So you could have another meltdown? Sink into another depression? Maybe try to… Leo, we almost lost you!" The words tore forth before Don could stop them. Unexpected tears stung his eyes.

"But you _didn't_." Leonardo's tone was almost amused. When Don looked up, he saw the big-brotherly look Leo often got with Mikey when he was upset about the approaching zombie apocalypse. Meeting Don's eyes, Leonardo's expression changed to understanding.

"Hey. Donny, it's ok. I appreciate what you were trying to do, and well…" He gave Don's shoulder a squeeze. "I'm proud of you, Bro. You and Mike were protecting our Clan's honor. _My_ honor. You had my back. Thanks."

"You're welcome, Leo," mumbled Don.

Leo leaned across the space. He managed to get one arm around his brother's shoulders, giving him a quick squeeze before letting him go again. "Just don't ever do something like that again without telling me."

Donatello managed a grin. "You got it, Bro."

The smile his brother gave him jolted Don. It reminded him of a much-younger Leonardo, a far more care-free brother. Something lightened in Don's chest.

"I'm sorry I doubted you, Bro," he said impulsively.

Leonardo gave him a startled glance and a grin. "It's ok, Donny. Come on, I heard Mike say something about food."

"Yeah. We'd better get down there before Raph finishes it."

Chuckling, the blue-banded Turtle jumped lightly down from the van, closing the door behind him. Don stepped out on his own side.

"Leo?"

"Yeah, Bro?"

"Do you think this is over? I mean, Austin's father… why'd he kidnap them?"

"I don't know." The lighthearted Turtle of a moment before disappeared, replaced by a hard fury. "But he won't have another chance. We're going to have to take turns guarding her at work. One of us will be shadowing her at all times while she's topside, whether she likes it or not. We can't take a chance on him snatching her again. We caught him by surprise tonight. A second time might be more… complicated. Come on, I need to talk to her."

"Wait." Donatello caught Leo's arm. "Why don't you let me talk to her?"

Leo glanced at his brother and nodded. "You're right. Mike's going to be pretty protective, but you're closest to her. She'll take it best from you."

Together they headed toward the elevator. Donatello's shell-cell went off at his side, and he snapped it open, smiling as he saw a familiar number come up on the screen.

"Hi, April. It's ok, we've got Austin and Skylar home safely," he said without preamble. "I was about to call you actually…"

"Don? I need you to come over here right now," said April tersely.

"What? April we just got home, can't this wait?"

"No, Don. I need you to come now."

"Is everything ok? Is someone there? Are you in danger?"

"No... it's not like that. Donny, please. Just come."

"Ok, April, no problem." Donatello looked up at his brother. "It's April. She says she needs me to come over. Seems urgent."

Leo studied him for a moment, then nodded. "All right. You ok on your own, or do you want me to come with you?"

Don considered for less than an instant before shaking his head. "That's ok, Leo, I've got this."

"Ok. Just be careful, Bro."

"Always am."


	25. Chapter 24 Reunion

**Chapter 24 ~_Reunion_**~

Lucille heard the stone elevator doors slide open, and footsteps, but she didn't come out of the room she'd been using immediately. She held back until she could no longer bear the waiting, before sliding the door open and moving out into the main part of the Lair. She didn't see Austin at first, and her heart sank. The living area was empty.

_They weren't able to get her,_ she thought. Tears stung her eyes. _Poor Michelangelo. He must be devastated…_

Voices from the dojo had her moving instinctively in that direction. This time she didn't enter boldly, but slipped over to the doorway and peered into the dimly-lit room. A Turtle was there, his back to her, with red mask-tails trailing down the back of his shell. Lucille had to fight down the urge to step back instinctively. The Turtle was larger and more muscular than those she'd met previously, Leonardo and Michelangelo. There was an aura of menace about him. His voice rumbled quietly as he spoke to a young woman with long, shining brown hair. She was looking steadily into his face without a trace of fear. Lucille couldn't hear the conversation, but the quiet tone and the proximity of the speakers made her feel as if she were intruding. When the Turtle gently cupped his hand to the woman's neck and leaned forward, slanting his mouth over hers, she turned away hastily, unwilling to intrude on such a private moment.

Fresh tears stung Luci's eyes. The tenderness between the pair was so poignant, her heart ached. She fingered the pendent around her neck absently, rubbing the tips of her fingers over the stone, and wandered back toward the hall that led to the room she'd been using.

The squawk of an impatient child had Luci turning toward the kitchen. She headed in that direction, thinking vaguely of what she'd say to Leonardo, to try to comfort the young leader. He'd left looking so determined.

"Do you want more tea?"

"No, let me get Skylar fed first…"

The voice… familiar, lost, returned, had Lucille sprinting to the kitchen. She burst through the doorway, staring, a little cry escaping her when she spotted her niece, perched on a kitchen chair, cradling a squirming Turtle babe. Michelangelo was leaning down to take the child with an indulgent smile. He glanced up.

"Oh, hey, Dudette. We thought you were still sleepin'."

"Aunt Luci!" Austin passed the baby to the Turtle and scrambled to her feet, rushing across the kitchen to catch Lucille up in a tight embrace. "Are you all right? Oh Aunt Luci, I was so worried about you!"

"Austin!" Lucille hugged the trembling young woman close. "It's all right, dear. It's all right now."

"Are _you_ all right, Aunt Luci? Those thugs didn't hurt you?" Austin released the woman, leaning back to gaze worriedly into her face.

"I'm fine, thanks to your family, Austin," replied Lucille with a smile.

"I didn't want it to be like this." Tears filled Austin's eyes. "Aunt Luci, I never meant for you to get hurt. I didn't know…"

"Hush, child," said Luci gently. She reached up to touch Austin's face. _She's here. She's really here. This isn't just an insane dream... _"I'm just glad you're safe."

"This is why… Aunt Luci, this is why I didn't want to let you in," said Austin softly. "I was afraid of something like this."

"Dear, Rin hasn't changed. Do you think I didn't know?" Lucille shook her head. "Did I leave your mother when she married the fool? Of course not. And I'm not holding your father against _you_ either."

"Lucille-san is very wise, Austin." A gravelly voice spoke up from the kitchen. Splinter came around the corner of the table, with a cup of tea in his hands. "Won't you come in and join us, Miss Lucille?"

"Yes, where are my manners. Come in, Aunt Luci. I want you to meet my family properly."

"I have, Dear," said Luci quietly, feeling a bit overwhelmed now that she saw Austin in the protective circle of her family. Michelangelo hovered close, with his daughter snuggled close to his plastron. Lucille couldn't help but smile when she heard the child's contented giggle and saw her grab the end of her father's mask and tried to stuff it into her mouth. Michelangelo grinned indulgently, tugging the silky material out of the baby's fingers.

"Silly girl," he cooed. "Here. This is better." He reached down, picking up a small piece of banana off a plate on the table and offering it to the baby. She grabbed it and stuffed it into her mouth, grinning with delight. "That's right, eat up. Don't you worry, you can have all you want to eat from now on."

"Is she hungry?" asked Lucille, puzzled.

"We both are," confessed Austin, going back to the table and sitting down. She reached over, putting her hand on Michelangelo's side. He smiled and sank down into a chair next to her.

"That Rin guy didn't bother feeding them," he growled, glancing at Lucille.

Her breath caught in her throat. "Austin…"

"It's ok Aunt Luci. He didn't… I mean, we're both ok. Skylar's ok." Austin shivered, and Lucille frowned.

"He didn't… threaten you? Or the baby?"

Austin glanced at Michelangelo before shaking her head. She avoided Luci's eyes.

"We're fine," she repeated a bit more firmly.

Lucille took the hint and didn't press further. She let Austin lead her to the table, and chose a seat across from her niece, next to Splinter. Leonardo was standing, leaning on the counter, watching everyone with a faint smile. Splinter nodded a greeting to Lucille as she sat.

She watched as Austin fed the baby bits of fruit from a plate obviously prepared for the purpose. Skylar was stuffing pieces in her mouth as fast as Austin handed them to her. Michelangelo hovered protectively next to the pair.

"You sure you're ok?" he asked.

Austin leaned into his shoulder and he put his arm around her. "We're fine, Mike. Thanks to you guys. I can't believe he thought he could keep me prisoner." She shivered.

"What did he _want_, Austin?" asked Leonardo.

"He wants me to go to Grandfather and get him to change his will so that Father will be the beneficiary," explained Austin.

There was a long moment of silence.

"Then he won't give up easily," said Leonardo softly. "Austin, you need to consider whether it's safe for you to go topside now, at least for a while."

"What? I have to work, Leo!" Austin's hazel eyes flashed. "I'm not going to hide from him. I'm _not._"

"What about the police?" asked Lucille. "Austin, don't you think you should file a report?"

"No." Austin shook her head firmly. "It's too risky."

"Austin, you and your daughter were _kidnapped_," argued Lucille. "You have to go to the police!"

"I _can't_ Aunt Luci. Can't you see? It would put my family in danger. I can't risk it," said Austin.

Lucille shook her head, frustrated, but didn't argue further.

_I really have no right to tell her what to do,_ she thought.

Splinter cleared his throat. "Austin-chan, perhaps it would be best to consider the options in the morning, when we are all rested," he suggested gently.

"_Hai_, Sensei." Austin nodded.

Splinter sipped his tea calmly, the argument cowed for the moment.

Another Turtle strode into the room, the one Lucille'd seen in the dojo.

"'Sup?" he asked the assembly in general, pausing to reach over Austin's shoulder and tickle the baby's cheek.

Skylar tipped her head back, dropping a bit of banana, and grinned widely, reaching her sticky hands up to him.

"Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!" she exclaimed.

"Hey Kid, it's good ta see you, too," said the red-masked Turtle gruffly.

"Aww, why don'tcha give Uncle Raphy a nice big kiss," teased Michelangelo. For the first time, Lucille saw him smile, his blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"I t'ink I'll wait til she's done eatin'." The muscular Turtle straightened, his amber eyes resting briefly on Lucille before flickering away.

"Lucille-san, this is my son, Raphael," supplied Splinter.

"I believe we've met," answered Luci carefully, watching the Turtle.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry about dat." Raphael shifted uneasily. "When we got to da park an' found ya leanin' over Sensei like dat, I…" He trailed off, glancing at Leonardo.

"What my brother is trying to say is he's sorry for attacking you, Miss Chesney," said Leonardo, giving Raphael a stern look.

"You attacked Aunt Luci?" Austin was on her feet in an instant, handing Skylar off to her husband. She crowded close to Raphael's plastron. To Luci's surprise, the Turtle flinched back from the petite woman's onslaught. "Why would you do that, Raph?"

"It was an accident, Austin, honest!" He was holding up his hands as if to ward her off. "I didn't know she was yer aunt!"

"He was defending his father," said Luci, stifling a giggle at the comical sight of the large Turtle backing away from her niece. "Austin, it's all right, I accept his apology."

Austin glared at Raphael for a few more seconds before she nodded. "All right. But Raph, you really have to be more careful. Aunt Luci is _family_."

"Yeah, I know." Raphael gave the girl a smirking grin. "Fergive me, Sis?"

Austin glared for a moment before wrapping him up in a tight embrace. "If Aunt Luci can, I can too."

Raphael's eyes flicked to Luci's face again and she gave him a cautious smile. He relaxed visibly, hugging Austin briefly before stepping away with a twitch of embarrassment.

"Good. Now dat's settled, what've we got ta eat? Hey, where's Donny, anyway?"

"He went to April's," answered Leonardo. "She called. Apparently the child he and Mikey… rescued is giving her some trouble." His dark eyes were on Michelangelo's back. Luci saw the orange-banded Turtle's shoulders hunch slightly. Austin's eyes widened as her gaze moved from her husband to her brother in law. Lucille tensed. She could sense the beginnings of a family fight.

Raphael sighed. "They were gonna tell ya, Fearless."

"You knew about this too?" Leonardo's voice rose with surprise. He was looking at his brother with what looked like hurt.

"Don't get yer shell in a bunch, Leo," answered Raphael.

"My shell is _not _in a bunch, Raph," snapped Leonardo. "When Donny told me I didn't know it was a family-wide conspiracy." He glanced at Lucille and shook his head. "We'll talk about this later," he said stiffly. "I'm going to bed. Good night, everyone."

The blue-banded Turtle strode out of the room without another word.

"Ah, man…" Michelangelo glanced at Austin.

"It'll be all right," she said, reaching for his arm. "He'll calm down."

"Your brother is rightfully upset," said Splinter quietly. "But Donatello and I discussed this. Michelangelo, you and Donatello will need to speak with Leonardo in the morning."

"Ok, Sensei."

Splinter nodded sharply, but said no more on the matter. Raphael went to the refrigerator and rummaged around, coming out with a soda. He nodded to Splinter in a gesture of casual respect and left the kitchen.

_I've never seen a family settle a dispute so quickly,_ thought Lucille. _I was sure Leonardo and Michelangelo were going to argue, but… I hope my presence here isn't causing tension. _

"I should go," she said suddenly. "Austin, you're safe now, but Janey needs me. I really should be getting back."

"Oh, Aunt Luci, why don't you stay tonight?" Austin turned to her aunt, pleading. "Mike can take you back to your hotel in the morning, and you can go from there. Please, Aunt Luci, I haven't seen you in so long."

"Well…"

"It is late. Of course if you wish it, my son will escort you back to your hotel, but it would be an honor if you would accept our hospitality, Lucille-san," said Splinter.

Luci turned to glance at the Rat. His dark eyes were unfathomable, but he gave her a reassuring smile. Slowly, she nodded.

"All right."


	26. Chapter 25 April

**Chapter 25 ~_April_~**

Don landed lightly on the fire escape and checked his surroundings once more before tapping lightly on the window. April threw it open almost at once, and Don suspected she'd been waiting for him. He slipped inside, flashing her an uneasy grin.

"You said it was important," he said, "So I came as soon as I could."

"Thanks, Don."

He noticed her hair was a bit bedraggled, and strain showed clearly in the dark circles under her eyes.

"What's going on, April?" he asked, keeping his other questions behind his teeth for now. _Why do you look so tired? What's been going on?_

April drew a deep breath. "First, I think someone would like to see you."

"Really?" Don glanced around in confusion and faint alarm, but the main living area of the apartment was empty.

"He's in here," said April quietly. She turned and led the way toward the spare bedroom, not even looking to be sure Don was following her. Outside the door, she hesitated a moment, glancing at her purple-banded friend. "Don, I've done my best. Please believe that."

"Oh, I do. April, is… is something wrong? You look…" April looked at him, and Don was startled and alarmed to see tears standing in her eyes. He reached out, touching her arm. It felt awkward, but her expression was so lost. "You look exhausted. Has he been that much trouble?"

The red-head shook her head with a choked laugh. "He's not trouble, exactly," she answered. She turned the knob, and pushed the door open. Don waited for April to enter the room, but she stepped back. At his questioning glance, she shook her head.

"You'd better go first. I'd just scare him."

"Scare him?" Donatello asked, incredulous. "April, you're the least-scary person I know."

"Apparently not." She stepped resolutely back, away from the door.

Don shook his head and slipped into the room. He didn't see Isamu at first, but a faint scuffling drew his attention to the right. The boy was there, huddled in the corner between the nightstand and the wall. When Don came into the room, he looked up. His eyes were huge, and he was pressing a hand over his mouth as if to keep from crying out.

"Isamu?" Don knelt, holding out a hand. "What's wrong, Buddy?"

"He thought you were me," called April softly from the hall. "He should be ok, as long as I stay out here."

At the sound of her voice, the boy tucked his chin to his chest and curled up, shielding his head with his arms. Don heard him whimper.

Cautiously, determined not to frighten the boy further, Don edged forward.

"Isamu?"

The boy's head snapped up, but instead of shrinking away from Don's hand, he launched forward out of the corner, wrapping his arms around the Turtle's neck, clinging like a leech. Don could feel his body trembling as the child buried his face in his shoulder.

"I good," the child whispered so softly Don could barely hear him. "Please… home… home now."

"You want to go home? Back to the orphanage?" Donatello patted the boy's back gently, bewildered by his behavior.

_Why would he want to go back there?_

The boy shook his head, his cheek brushing Donatello's neck, and pressed closer. He seemed determined to meld with Don's plastron.

"You… home, please…" Isamu pleaded, shivering violently. His fingers wrapped around the edge of Don's shell.

Donatello stood up, rubbing soothing circles with his fingers against the boy's shoulder.

"You… want to go home with _me_?"

A slight nod.

"Good, you got him out of the corner." April spoke softly from the doorway. The boy shuddered, pressing closer to Don, and another faint sound escaped him.

"Home," he whimpered. "Please… go home… good Isamu…"

"Of course you're a good boy," said Don automatically. He laid his hand over the child's back, supporting him as he turned to face April. "What on earth is going on, April?" he asked, completely confused. "How long has he been acting like this?"

"Since he woke up yesterday," said April. She leaned back against the doorway with a heavy sigh. "I thought he'd get over it. I mean, from what you told me about that place…" She shuddered. "He woke up crying, here in the bed, but when he saw me he just seemed to… I don't know how to describe it Donny. I've never seen anything like it. He just froze up. I tried talking to him, but he just stared at me like… like he was scared out of his _mind._" She moved across the room, giving the Turtle and the child a wide berth, and perched on the edge of the bed.

"Well, I thought he might just need a little time, so I left the door open and went out to the kitchen to fix breakfast. I know he came out to use the bathroom; I heard him…"

The child shivered, and his arm tightened around Donatello's neck.

April shook her head. "When I came back, he ran to that corner and started crying, so I just set the plate on the nightstand and sat on the bed for a while, just talking to him. He wouldn't come out of the corner, so I left him alone again. I thought maybe he'd eat if I wasn't here… but when I came back, he hadn't touched the food. I tried again, but I couldn't get him to eat anything. He just sat in the corner and cried all day. It was all I could do to get him back into the bed for the night."

"Ah, April, I'm sorry," said Don. "I can't understand it."

"Donatello, that woman you told me about," April looked up with tears glittering in her jade eyes. "From the orphanage. What did she look like?"

"Well, she was… about your height, I guess. And she had red hair…" Donatello trailed off, understanding hitting him like a cold shower. "Oh, man, April, I'm so sorry. I never thought…"

"It's not your fault Donny." April smiled for the first time since he'd arrived. "He's obviously a lot more comfortable with you. Why don't you bring him out to the kitchen and we'll see if we can get him to eat something?"

"Ok."

Don walked through the apartment, with Isamu clinging like a limpet. He sat at the table, gathering the boy gently into his lap, while April tossed scrambled eggs, a bit of cheese and bacon into a pan. Soon the savory smell of the omelet filled the kitchen. Isamu lifted his head, sniffing, but one hand held firmly to the edge of Don's shell.

"Are you hungry, little guy?" asked Donatello.

Isamu looked up into his face. Slowly, he nodded.

"Why don't you sit here next to me? April's fixing you a nice omelet," said Don.

Isamu's eyes flickered from the terrapin to the red-head, obviously uncertain. He pulled himself closer to Don's plastron, laying his cheek against his chest and reaching for the edge of his plastron with the other hand. His fingers curled around the edge, clinging.

April turned from the stove, and brought a plate of gently steaming eggs to the table. She set the plate down and stepped back. Isamu watched her every move, cringing against Don's plastron.

"Isamu, it's ok. See, April wants to be your friend too," said Don firmly. "Come on now, sit up in the chair and eat." He made to lift the boy, to set him on the chair next to him, but Isamu was having none of it. He clung tighter, whimpering and pressing his face against Don's plastron.

April shook her head. "Maybe he'll eat if you let him sit with you, Don," she said softly. "This is the first time I've been able to get him out of the bedroom."

Donatello blew out a sigh of frustration. "All right. Isamu, you can sit with me, ok? I want you to sit up and eat. Look, April's made you a nice omelet."

Isamu sniffled, but lifted his head to gaze up at Donatello. His fingers released the Turtle's shell and squirmed, twisting around so that he was facing the table. He stared at April for several seconds before reaching timidly to pick up the fork she'd put on the table for him. He poked the eggs with the fork, as if to test them, before cutting a small piece off. His eyes never left April as he stuffed the food into his mouth. Apparently gathering courage from the distance the woman was keeping, he began eating, taking small, careful bites, but demolishing the food at an impressive rate nonetheless.

"Good job, Isamu," said Don encouragingly. "That's good. Eat it all up, ok? Eggs are good for little boys. They help you grow big and strong."

The child glanced up at him, beaming. He chewed and swallowed before one small hand reached out to trace along Don's forearm resting beside his plate on the table.

"Isamu good boy."

"That's right. Isamu is a good boy," said Don softly. He glanced up at April and she smiled.

"There's something else, Don," said April. Her voice was quiet, but Isamu glanced up, alarmed, and Don felt him shiver.

"It's ok, Isamu," said Donatello automatically. "What is it, April?"

"The couple… The ones I told you about?" April waited for Don's nod before continuing. "Donatello, I'm sorry. They… found out they're going to have a baby. They won't be able to take Isamu after all."

"You mean they don't want him?" Don's arm tightened around the boy's waist. "Just like that?"

"Well, they feel they can't afford to adopt now, with their own child on the way."

Donatello shook his head. "But it's not as though they're having to pay the fees and things to the agency…"

"I know, Donny."

The Turtle swore softly. "I suppose you don't have any other infertile friends who'd like to adopt a two year old and won't ask too many awkward questions?"

"They're not exactly thick on the ground, Don." April's voice was tinged with irony, and Don smiled in spite of his frustration.

"I'm sorry, April. I know you're doing your best to help us. I really appreciate everything you've done."

"I'm just sorry things fell through. I mean, of course I'm thrilled for Adam and Traci, but…" April trailed off, passing a weary hand over her face.

"It's ok. We'll figure something out."

"I'm really sorry Donny."

Don nodded. Noticing Isamu had cleaned the plate, he shifted. "Good job, little guy. Why don't you let April help you get cleaned up now, huh?"

The child turned huge eyes up to Don. He twisted on his lap, and with one terrified glance over his shoulder at April, sprang up to cling to Don's neck once more.

"Isamu home!" the child whimpered, pressing his face against Don's shoulder.

"Donny…." April gave him a strained smile. "I think… he wants to go home with _you_."

"What? With _me_? But April, the Lair is no place for a child…" Donatello trailed off as April cocked an eyebrow at him. "You know what I mean. He doesn't _belong_ with us, April. He belongs with other humans…"

"Donatello, he's obviously attached to you," said April quietly. "I… I can't take care of him. I want to help, I _do_, but he's terrified of me. Casey'll be home in a couple days, and if he's afraid of me, imagine what he'll think of Casey."

"I understand, April," said Don slowly. "I'm sorry this was so much trouble."

"It wasn't any trouble, Don." April came around the table to touch the shoulder Isamu wasn't currently glued to. "You know I'd do anything to help you guys out. It's just that this time, I think me being _human_ is the problem."

The child jerked at the sound of her voice so close, whimpering and pressing more tightly against Don's plastron.

He nodded. "I can see that."

"I'm glad you understand. If there's absolutely anything I can do to help…"

"Thanks, April." Donatello got to his feet. "I appreciate it. I really do. Well, Isamu, I don't know what Leo will say, but I guess you're gonna have a sleepover at my house for a while, ok?"

A small face lifted from the green shoulder, and dark eyes peered into Don's. "Isamu… home?" he whispered.

"Yep, you're going home with me for now. Until we can find you a safe place, ok?"

The child's face broke into a happy grin. "Home," he repeated.

Donatello couldn't help returning the smile. "That's right. We're going home."

"Thanks, Donny," said April with a tired smile.

"No problem, April. Thank _you_. I'll call you later, ok?"

"I'll be here." She smiled and picked up the plate and fork, carrying them to the sink.

Isamu's arm wrapped around Don's bicep, his other hand clinging to the edge of his plastron. "Bye Mrs. Lady," he whispered.

"That's not Mrs. Lady," corrected Donatello. "That's April."

Isamu turned to at him, suspicious. "Mrs. Lady."

"No, that's April. She's my friend."

"A-pril?" Isamu tried out the name as if it felt strange in his mouth.

Hearing her name, the redhead turned with a shocked smile. "That's right, Isamu," she said very softly. "My name is April."

Isamu, apparently frightened at being addressed, hid his face in Don's shoulder again.

April sighed. "See you later, Don."

"Ok. Bye April." Donatello headed for the door leading downstairs. He wouldn't risk the rooftops carrying the child. The basement access to the sewers meant a slightly longer route home, but it was safer and less exposed.

"Bye, Mrs. April," whispered Isamu.

Don chuckled. "There's hope for you yet."


	27. Chapter 26 Introduction

**Chapter 26 ~_Introduction_**~

Ann snuggled close to Raphael on the couch. One advantage to going on a mission, his wife tended to want to be close to him afterward, as if to reassure herself he was safe. He smiled contentedly, leaning back into the couch and shifting his arm so she could wriggle closer to his side. Bailey sat up far enough to lick Raphael's fingers. The big dog lay next to the couch, content to be near his owner and her husband.

Ann wasn't much impressed by the movies he usually favored like Die Hard and Lethal Weapon, and he could hardly stay awake through Pretty Woman. Tonight they'd compromised and put in Gone in Sixty Seconds.

_Shell, I'm glad Ann's feelin' better. Dat flu bug really laid her out. She's been sick since Halloween,_ thought Raph, rubbing a hand contentedly over her back.

"He's got such great eyes," remarked Ann with a sigh.

"Who?"

"Nicholas Cage."

"Dat wuss?"

Ann punched her husband lightly. "He is not!"

Raphael snorted. "He ain't doin' none o' dem stunts, Annie," he told her. "He's got real men ta do it for him."

"What's the matter, are you _jealous_?"

"What? O' _him?_" Raph snorted.

Ann laughed. "It's ok, Honey. I like my men a little more… hard boiled."

"Ya mean in da shell?" he cracked, his grin widening.

"Yep." She leaned her cheek against his plastron, her hand resting on his thigh. Raph shifted, a familiar tingle settling comfortably into his leg from where her hand was touching. Ann lifted her head and smiled into his eyes, deliberately moving her fingers against his knee, sliding along the edge of the pad he still wore. Raph grunted, but straightened his leg. Ann's chuckle vibrated against his plastron. Grinning, Raph tightened his arm around her shoulders and found her ribs with his fingers.

"Hey!" Ann wriggled and Raphael laughed, enjoying himself. She squirmed, trying to wriggle free, but he had her trapped. Ann moved her hand, gripping his leg and finding a sensitive spot along the inside of his knee. Raph yelped, twisting away.

"Turn about's fair play," she told him.

"Yeah, well…" Raphael clamped an arm around her waist, dragging her across his lap. "Ya should know better by now than to fight a ninja, Annie."

They were so busy wrestling, the couple didn't notice the elevator door opening until Donatello started up the stairs toward the bedrooms. Raphael leaned back over the couch, clamping his arm around his wriggling wife's waist, to look at his brother.

"Whatcha got there, Donny?" he called amiably. Ann squirmed, and half-sat up, still laughing. She stretched out her fingers, just capturing the end of Raph's mask tail that was trailing down over his arm. She gave it a tug, eliciting a grunt of surprise from the Turtle, but when the bundle in Donatello's arms _moved_, Raph let go of Ann and stared at his brother. Ann froze, staring as well.

"Donatello? What are you _doing?_" she asked.

"Oh, uh, hi guys." Don took another step up the stairs, as if he intended to duck into his own room to avoid questions, but a familiar wail had him stopping like a deer in the headlights. Raph smirked.

"Busted," he murmured. Ann shifted off his lap to kneel on the couch, peering over the back at Donatello. Raph stood up, stretching. Bailey stayed where he was, though Raph heard him shift against the floor.

"Come on Donny, spill. Whatcha got?" he asked again. "Ya bringin' home a pet fer Kouki, Bro?"

"Umm no, not exactly." Donatello sighed as Beverly came out of their bedroom, carrying a whimpering Turtle.

"Oh, there you are. Here, Don, why don't you take him while I fix a bottle," she asked, then stopped halfway down the stairs. From where Raph was standing, he saw her eyes go wide, and her mouth open in shock. "Donny… what did you _do?_" she asked.

That was all the invitation Raphael needed to head up the stairs, cornering his purple-masked brother. Donatello half-turned toward him, an annoyed frown starting to settle on his face, when the bundle he was holding moved again, lifting its face and blinking sleepily at Raph. The dark eyes went wide, but the child… Raph blinked… it was a _human_ child, just stared at him. Raph noticed that its fingers were curled tightly around the edge of Don's shell.

"Donny, who is he? Is this… Is this the boy you and Mikey…" Beverly began. The boy turned his head, and Raph saw his chin start to wobble. He whimpered, clutching at Don's plastron. The child seemed to be trying to meld with his brother's chest.

"Whoa, Genius, what da _shell?_" Raph hissed. "What were you _t'inkin?_ Ya brought da kid _here?_"

"What's going on, guys," asked Ann from the base of the stairs. She stood, looking curiously up at the group.

Donatello took a step back down the stairs. He patted the child's back.

"It's ok, Isamu," he said softly. "This is Beverly, and my son Kouki, remember? I told you I have a little boy, too. And this is my brother, Raph, and it's just Ann, my sister down there. It's ok."

The child's whimper was muffled against Donatello's shoulder, but Raph saw him shiver.

"What's wrong wit' 'im?" he asked gruffly, taking a step back to give Don a bit more space.

"He's just scared," said Donatello softly. "Bev, I'm sorry. April couldn't keep him. He's terrified of her. Apparently she looks a little like the woman from the children's home who abused him."

"He's scared o' _April?_" Raphael stared.

"Yeah. I had to bring him here. I didn't know what else to do." Don was watching Beverly, his eyes pleading.

Raph glanced at his sister-in-law. She was watching the way the child cringed against Donatello, and Raph noticed her arms tighten around Kouki.

"Raphael, would you mind taking Kouki a minute?" she asked softly.

"Sure Bev." He reached out and his sister-in-law handed him the squirming Turtle. Kouki wriggled in Raph's arms, turning to press his mouth against his bicep, attempting to suck at it.

"Ick. How about if I feed 'im?" suggested Raph.

"That'd be great," said Beverly. She'd moved closer to her husband and was peering at the little boy, her hand hovering near his back, though she didn't quite touch him. "The poor thing, he's so thin. Is that a bruise? Don, why don't you bring…"

"Isamu. His name is Isamu."

"Isamu, then. Why don't you bring him down to the kitchen for now? We can all sit down and figure out what to do, ok?"

"Ok." Donatello nodded, moving down the stairs. Raphael noticed his arms stayed protectively wrapped around the boy. Beverly followed, and Ann moved away from the base of the stairs to give them room to pass. Isamu peeked over Don's shoulder at Raphael, his dark eyes glinting as they moved silently through the living room to the kitchen. Kouki squirmed in his arms again, a whimper beginning to gain strength. Raph bounced him absently, but Kouki was having none of it.

Beverly smiled. "I'll just grab him a bottle, Raph."

"Ok."

Ann followed them into the kitchen, her sharp brown eyes following Donatello as if she were trying to figure something out. Raph knew by the way her lips pursed and the slight frown creased her brow that she was building up a head of steam. Donatello was likely to get an earful later on. Ann wasn't easily riled, but when anything threatened the safety of the Clan, her temper could rival Raphael's easily.

Raphael took a seat across the table from his brother, adjusting Kouki against his shoulder and watching his younger brother. Don sat down at the table, looking decidedly uneasy. Ann chose a seat next to Raph. She was watching Donatello with a piercing gaze.

"Donny, what's this all about?" she asked. "Who _is_ this boy? Where did he come from?"

"He belonged to dat guy Leo killed last year," explained Raph gruffly.

"You _knew _about this?" Ann turned to glare at her husband.

"Kind of." Raph shook his head. "Mike tol' me what they were doin' da night Austin got snatched. They went to da orphanage ta get 'im, 'cause some nut was gonna kill 'im 'r somet'in. He was supposed ta be at April's." Donatello looked up, returning Raph's glare with a determined look.

Raphael felt a weight settle in his chest. He knew that look. Donatello was soft-spoken most of the time, and the most reasonable and logical of all of them, but when he set his mind to something, there was no changing it.

Taking a deep breath, he deliberately loosened the tension that was building in his shoulders. "Don. Dis is nuts. Why'd ya bring 'im _here_? Leo's gonna flip 'is lid. He's already ticked at us."

"I talked to Leo," said Don a little too quickly. "He knows about the boy."

"But he doesn't know you were bringing him home, does he?" Ann asked.

"Why, Don?" Beverly carried the warmed bottle over to the table, shaking it thoroughly before handing it over to Raph. He tucked the nipple into Kouki's mouth. The baby latched on and sucked greedily. Raphael lifted him, and Bev gathered the contented Turtle tot into her arms, sitting on Raph's other side, across from Donatello. She was watching him, but her eyes were soft.

"Why'd you bring him back here?"

"He's scared of April," explained Donatello wearily. "Bev, she couldn't get near him. When I got there he was sitting in the corner, crying. He wouldn't eat, she could hardly get him into bed…"

"Well what're _we _supposed ta do wit' 'im?" asked Raphael. He wanted to _shake_ his brother. Usually he was the first in line for a chance to rile Leonardo, but this…

_Leo ran past his brother, ignoring his shout. Raphael saw the flash of a knife in his belt. He would've chased his brother then, if not for his broken leg… As it was it was nearly three hours before he saw Leo again, almost three hours before he knew if his brother was alive or…_

Raph shook his head as if he could physically remove the memory. "Donny, dis is a bad idea," he said.

"I _know_, Raph." Donatello had that determined look again. "Listen, it's just for a little while, until we can figure something out. April said she'd help…"

"Why can't we jus' dump him off wit' da cops 'r somet'in?"

Donatello shook his head. "He's already been traumatized. Besides, we don't know if Masaru will try again."

"Masaru?" Raphael's eyes narrowed.

"Karai's second in command. He's the one who's after Isamu," said Don quietly.

"What's he want wit' da kid?"

Donatello shook his head, glancing at the boy still snuggled in his arms. The boy was dozing, his cheek lying against Don's plastron.

"He wants him dead, Raph," he said in a firm, level voice. "Isn't that enough reason to protect him?"

"Don have you considered the legal implications?" asked Ann softly. "If it becomes known that the child is missing…"

"I doubt anyone will notice he's missing," said Donatello. "It isn't the kind of place that keeps good records."

"It ain't da cops we gotta worry about Annie," growled Raphael. "It's Fearless."

"I'll talk to Leo in the morning," said Don quietly.

"Where is he going to sleep?" asked Beverly. She tugged the bottle out of Kouki's mouth with a _pop_ and lifted him to her shoulder, patting his shell firmly.

Raphael almost laughed. _Leave it to Bev ta get down ta da basics._

Kouki let out a squawk of protest, and Isamu jumped, staring around with suddenly wide-awake, dark eyes.

His gaze landed on Raphael and he frowned, turning his head to look up at Don questioningly, and back to Raph.

"That's Raphael," said Donatello quietly. "He's my brother."

"Raph-el?" The voice was so soft Raph barely heard. "Bruh-ver?"

"Yes. And this is Ann." Don pointed and the boy turned to peek at Ann. Raph noticed how he shrank against Donatello at the sight of the woman, and Don's arm tightened against his shoulder.

"It's ok, Isamu. Ann is my sister," he said softly.

Isamu looked up at Don again. "Ann?" he whispered. "Sis-tah?"

"Yes. That's right. She's my sister, Ann."

The boy looked at the woman again "Ann. Sistah."

"That's my wife, Beverly," said Don softly, pointing. "She's Kouki's mommy."

"Mommy?" the boy parroted, turning to look at her. He froze, his eyes widening. "Mrs. Lady!" he whimpered, sounding uncertain.

"No, Isamu" said Donatello firmly. "That's Beverly."

"Bev-ly?"

"That's right. That's Beverly and our son, Kouki."

"Ku-ki?"

"What's wrong wit' da kid, Donny?" Raph watched the child, fascinated in spite of himself. The little human seemed to trust Donatello completely.

"He's afraid of red-haired women," said Don softly. "The woman at the orphanage, she had dark red hair like April's."

Raph swore softly, and the dark eyes snapped back to him.

"S-it."

"Nice going, Raph." Donatello smirked.

"Hey!" Raphael glared at the boy. "Don't say dat, kid."

"Raph-el."

"That's right. Raphael said a bad word," replied Don, chuckling.

Kouki let out a loud belch, startling a giggle from the human boy. "Ku-ki burp," he murmured, looking up at Don for approval. When Donatello smiled at him, the boy's face lit up and he positively beamed. "Ku-ki burp," he said again.

"Well, if we're finished with the vocabulary lessons," said Beverly, glancing sardonically at Raphael. "I think we'd better find a place for him to sleep for tonight."

"I hadn't thought…" Don looked at his wife. "Where can we put him? Lucille's using the guest room."

"Well, maybe we can make a bed upstairs for him," suggested Beverly.

Donatello cleared his throat. "I… I kind of thought, in our room," he said. "I don't know if he'll go to sleep on his own in a strange place…"

"Donny, there's no space," protested Beverly.

"How about if ya set up a bed in our room fer tonight?" suggested Raph. "If dat's ok wit' you, Annie?" he glanced at his wife, and saw her eyebrows rise.

"Yeah, I guess it'd be ok for tonight."

"Well…." Donatello looked down at Kouki. "What do you think, little guy. Do you want to sleep in Raph's room? He snores like a chainsaw."

"I do not."

"Raph-el?"

"Yeah, Kid. Yer bunkin' wit' us tonight," said Raph, trying a smile on the kid. Isamu stared hard at him for a long moment before a wide grin broke out over his features.

"Raph-el."


	28. Chapter 27 Dreams

**Chapter 27 ~**_**Dreams~**_

Sierra shifted, coming awake suddenly, chills washing over her as the nightmare faded from her conscious memory, leaving behind the cold like a bitter aftertaste. She blinked in the darkness, reaching instinctively for Leonardo, feeling the reassuring, familiar whorl of his shell under her hand before lying back down with a sigh.

He moved next to her, his arm coming around her middle and drawing her closer as he rolled to his side.

"You ok?" he murmured.

"Sorry. I didn't mean to wake you," she replied, though it was nearly impossible to move in the night without waking him.

"It's ok." He nuzzled her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Nightmare?"

"No… yes… I'm not sure." She shivered. "I… I thought I heard a baby crying."

"Probably Kouki," Leo whispered. His hand moved against her hip, brushing in small, comforting circles.

"Or Skylar," She answered, snuggling down against his plastron so that the top of her head was tucked under his chin. He gathered her close, drawing in a deep breath. She could feel his heartbeat under her cheek and felt safe against the warm, pliable smoothness of his plastron, wrapped up in his arms.

"I love you," she whispered.

"_Ai shiteru yo_,"(I love you so much) answered Leonardo softly.

"Leo?"

"Mmm?"

"Do… do you think… do you want a baby? I mean… some day?"

"I haven't thought about it much."

"Ok." Her voice was small, muffled against his chest.

Leonardo shifted, tightening his hold around his wife and adjusting so that she lay more comfortably against him.

"Do you want a baby?" he whispered, suddenly sounding less languid and sleepy.

"I… I don't know," she whispered. Tears stung Sierra's eyes and she blinked.

"Sierra…" Leo shifted his arm, bringing it up to cup her cheek. "Do you want a baby?"

"I… only if you do," she answered, sniffing.

"_Sai-ai no tsuma_,"(beloved wife) he whispered, smoothing her hair back from her face.

"Leo… I just want you to be happy."

"_You_ make me happy," he whispered. "Sierra, if you want a baby… we can try."

She shifted, finally lifting her head to gaze into his face. She could just see his eyes, glinting mysteriously in the dim light.

"But is it what you want?" she asked softly.

His arm tightened around her and he leaned close, pressing his mouth to hers. When he broke the kiss, she was breathless. "A baby would be amazing," he whispered. "Just like its mother."

Sierra snuggled closer to her husband, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

"I have to get up soon," murmured Leo into her hair. His hand moved against her back, warm, reassuring.

"Do you want to go down early to meditate?" she asked softly. "I will come with you if you want."

"Mmm," he nuzzled the top of her head. "We could stay here."

"We could." She leaned her head back, moving up so she could gaze into his dark eyes, and leaned in for a kiss.

* * *

When Leonardo finally rolled out of bed, he stretched, his muscles rippling. Sierra watched appreciatively for a moment, feeling warm and languorous, before she rose. She felt his eyes on her as she ran a comb through her dark curls and twisted her hair into a loose knot, securing it with a fastener made of a bit of leather and wood. She felt, rather than heard, the way he went still behind her.

"What?" she asked, turning to face him.

Leonardo was watching her with the intense look he sometimes got. Slowly, almost cautiously, he reached out, tugging the wooden stick away that held her hair in place. Ignoring Sierra's startled gasp, he ran his fingers through her ebony curls.

She smiled, tilting her head against his palm.

"_Anata wa utsukushii desu,_" he said softly. "You are _so_ beautiful."

Tears stung Sierra's eyes. "Leo…" she protested.

"You _are_," he said firmly. His hand rested against her cheek for a moment longer before he took it away. "I'll meet you in the dojo," he said gently, and just like that, he was gone.

Sierra stood smiling, with the tears still tracking down her cheeks. She was used to his vanishing act by now, and wasn't bothered by the sudden departure. Carefully, she tucked her hair back up before slipping into a soft tee-shirt and a pair of knit pants.

She worked through a few basic stretches in the bedroom, knowing Leonardo would be distracted if she did them in the dojo. Sometimes it was fun to tease him a bit, but she tried not to interfere with the morning training if she could help it. She understood his need to practice, and his need for self-control and discipline.

Her own nature was often far less controlled, to her occasional chagrin. She knew in her heart that Leonardo loved her, but she also sensed irritation from him at times when she was in a playful mood and he wasn't in the mood to be responsive. Raphael often said that Leonardo needed to "lighten up". Sierra preferred Splinter's admonishment that Leo should seek balance in all things.

_Balance,_ she thought to herself. _Lord, help me to be the support he needs so he can find the proper balance between leading and protecting his family and allowing himself to be led and protected at the same time. Go with us today, Father, and keep us all safe. Thank you, Lord, for my Sister Austin's return, and for little Skylar, that everyone came home safely. Keep your hand of protection over us, Lord, and keep us safe from any who might mean our family harm. _

Dressed and relaxed, Sierra sat on the bed for a moment, opening her Bible to Proverbs.

"_A wife of noble character who can find? She is worth far more than rubies. Her husband has full confidence in her, and lacks nothing of value. She brings him good, not harm, all the days of her life…"* _

A sound outside the door startled Sierra out of her reading. She set the book aside, moving cautiously to the entryway. Another burst of tiny footsteps had her reaching for the door, sliding it open, careful to be silent.

The footsteps were unfamiliar and every sense was on high alert. Splinter and his sons made no sound when they walked along the narrow balcony, and even when they deliberately made noise, their steps were longer and louder than the soft patters she'd heard. Sierra's breathing hitched slightly, memories tugging at her heart. She deliberately ignored the sensation, peering into the shadowed space. A tiny figure was moving down the hall as if it'd just come from the bathroom tucked into a corner at the far end. With the additions to their family, Donatello had enlisted his brothers to help construct a second bathroom upstairs, above the old one so that the plumbing could be easily lined up with what was already there.

The child… Sierra was sure now that it was a child, was coming back from that direction, headed for Raphael's bedroom. She was about to call out when a muffled shout sounded from the room.

"He's gone! Annie, da kid's gone!"

"What? Raph are you sure?"

Ann's voice was quiet but Sierra could hear the panic clearly.

"He was here a minute ago. Isamu! Where are ya? Hey, Kid?"

Sierra could hear the muted sounds of a hasty search.

The boy apparently heard the sounds too. He froze, crouching against the wall, looking around nervously. He began edging along the wall, back toward the bathroom. Sierra stepped out into the hall, careful to move slowly.

"Hello there." Sierra knelt and held her hand out to the child.

He froze, staring at her with huge, dark eyes.

"My name is Sierra," she said softly, though her heart twisted at the fear in his gaze. "I think my brother Raphael is looking for you." _How on earth did you find your way down here? Obviously Raph and Ann know you're here…_

The boy's glance flicked past Sierra toward the door with the longing of someone lost and within sight of refuge.

"Raph-el," he whispered.

"So you do know Raph. Ok, let's go see him, all right? He sounds worried." Sierra gave the child a reassuring smile. She stood up, still moving slowly, and approached him. The child flinched when she took his hand, but allowed her to lead him back toward Raph and Ann's room. The door swung open, and a very worried looking Raphael stepped out into the hallway.

"I think I've found someone you know, Raph," said Sierra. The little boy moved so that he was half-hidden behind her legs. She could feel him trembling.

"Oh! Uh, hi Sierra," said Raph. "Yeah, t'anks." His nervous glance met her eyes for just a moment before he sank to one knee. "There ya are, Isamu. Where'd ya go, little Buddy? We was worried about ya."

Apparently reassured by the red-banded Turtle's gentle tone, Isamu came out from behind Sierra and held out his arms to him. Raphael reached out with one hand, scooping the child up. Isamu wrapped an arm confidently around his neck, laying his head on his shoulder.

"Potty," he murmured.

Raphael chuckled.

"I got 'im, Annie," he called over his shoulder. "Seems he needed ta use da facilities."

"Oh thank goodness. If Leo saw him…" Ann came out of the bedroom, freezing when she saw Sierra standing in the hall.

"Good morning, Ann," said Sierra with a faint smile.

Ann flushed. "Sierra… Oh dear."

"It's ok, Ann. Leonardo's in the dojo. But who is this? What's going on?"

"Sierra, nobody wanted ta upset Leo, ya gotta understand dat," pleaded Raphael. "Donny t'ought Fearless'd be ok wit' dis… It's jus' temporary…"

"Whoa, Raph, start from the beginning," said Sierra, shaking her head. "Who is this boy? Why can't Leo know he's here? What's going _on_?"

Raphael looked distinctly uncomfortable. He glanced over his shoulder at Ann.

"Raph, go down to practice," suggested Ann quietly. "I'll fill Sierra in. It's best this way. She can help you guys talk to your brother."

Raphael nodded, looking relieved. He turned, prying the boy off his plastron and handing him over to Ann. The child clung to him, whimpering a protest.

"It's ok, Isamu. Yer gonna sit up here wit' Ann an' my Sis, Sierra, ok?"

"Ann? See-ra?"

"Yep, that's right." Raphael gave the boy a wide smile.

Isamu glanced uncertainly at Sierra, but allowed Ann to take him. He waved as Raphael made his way past his sister-in-law toward the stairs.

"Bye, Raph-el," he called.

"Yeah, bye, Kid," answered Raph. "See ya in a little bit, ok?"

Ann gestured to Sierra, and she followed the other woman into her bedroom. Sierra was startled to see a narrow cot had been set up in Raph and Ann's room. The rumpled blankets and pillow showed the child had slept there.

Ann sat down on the bed. Isamu slid to the floor and scrambled up on the cot.

"Isamu bed," he announced with a grin.

"That's right, that's Isamu's bed," said Ann with the tired smile of someone who has listened to a child's chatter for just a little too long.

"Who _is_ he, Ann? What on earth is going on?"

Ann looked at Sierra, searching her face. "Sierra… The man who… who hurt you, when you were taken by the Foot…"

Sierra winced, but forced herself to nod. "Yes?"

"He… well, it's kind of complicated. His name was Aiko."

_I don't want to hear this… _Sierra could feel her hands beginning to sweat.

"He… had a son. When he died, the boy's mother… she committed suicide."

"Oh, no," Sierra's hand went reflexively to her mouth.

Ann nodded. "There's more. It's… complicated. Masaru, that's Karai's second in command, apparently he was in love with the woman, and he hated Aiko. When the woman died… He took the boy to a run down old orphanage and abandoned him there. Don… Don found all this out while he was doing some surveillance Leo asked him for."

"What does all this have to do with…" Sierra trailed off, her eyes going wide as she pieced the puzzle together. "You mean, this is…"

Instinctively, she shrank away from the boy.

Ann shook her head. "Sierra, I'm sorry. I know this has to be hard for you," she said softly. "But Masaru was going to kill him. Donny took him from the orphanage to save his life. April was going to find him a home, but it didn't work out. She couldn't keep the boy at her place, he's terrified of her because she looks like the woman from the home. Don had to bring him here. It's temporary, I promise. Don, Raph and Mike are going to talk to Leo. He already knows about the boy. He just… doesn't know he's _here._"

Slowly, Sierra nodded. Her eyes were glued to the child, who was sitting on the cot, fingering the satin edging on one of the blankets. She noticed with a pang how thin his arms were, and the sunken quality of his cheeks.

She looked up, meeting Ann's eyes. "Don did the right thing," she said softly. "Don't worry, Ann. I'll… help however I can with Leo. He's not going to be happy." She glanced at the boy. "But I know he'll understand."

* * *

*Proverbs 31:10-12 NIV


	29. Chapter 28 Shouting

**Chapter 28 **_**~Shouting~**_

"You did _what?_"

Shouting. Isamu covered his ears, flinching at the sound. He hated it when people shouted. Shouting meant trouble, and trouble had a way of turning out to be his fault.

He risked glancing toward the women sitting on the other bed. They were talking in quiet voices. They didn't seem worried by the shout he'd heard, so maybe it was ok.

Ann seemed nice. And Sierra, too. She'd smiled at him. Smiles were one of those things you had to be careful of. Some people's smiles looked nice, but weren't. You could tell by their eyes. If their eyes crinkled up and felt warm to look at, the smile was safe. Sierra's eyes smiled too, when she smiled at him.

_She's nice_, he decided. _Like Donatello._

Donatello, Isamu had already determined, was the best person he'd ever met. When the bad man came into his room, Donatello stopped him from hurting Isamu. He'd been scared at first of the big stick Donatello carried, but when the Turtle found him hiding in the closet, he'd put the stick away and used nice words. No one had spoken to Isamu so gently in as long as he could remember. He liked Donatello's quiet voice and his brown eyes that seemed to always be soft.

When Isamu woke up in the strange bed, with the other Mrs. Lady, _No… Mrs. April,_ he reminded himself, Donatello had come to rescue him again.

Isamu frowned. _Where did Donatello go? And the other one… Raphael? _He looked at the women again. These grown-ups were nice, but he liked Donatello best. He was big, strong, and nice to Isamu, which made Isamu feel good. The women were still talking. Isamu didn't mind. Grown ups seemed to talk a lot, and he was used to being ignored. He climbed down from the cot, careful not to make any noise. Grown ups, Isamu knew, hated noise. Making too much noise caused trouble.

He slipped quietly to the door and peeked out. With one last look over his shoulder at the women, he moved out in to the hall and peered over the railing. His eyes went wide. He'd never seen such an interesting place. There were televisions and furniture and… Isamu stared. That looked like… a ball. Bright orange with _sparkles_. He wondered briefly if touching it would cause trouble, but it was _so_ bright and round and it practically cried out to be played with. Besides, the grown ups weren't around. He didn't know the rules in this new place yet, like who was allowed to play with the toys or when, but he did know as long as the grownups weren't around, the rules didn't matter as much. As long as no one saw him touch the ball, he wouldn't be punished for it.

Slowly, cautiously, Isamu climbed down the first step, careful to hold onto the railing. He'd fallen down the stairs once, in his old place, where Donatello took him from, and Mrs. Lady had been _very_ angry. His leg had hurt and she took him to a man in a white coat with cold eyes and hands. The man had poked and squeezed his leg, making it hurt more, and wrapped it up in a hard shell.

After a while, Mrs. Lady got tired of him banging around in the shell, because she took him back and the cold man took it off again. His leg had hurt for a long time. He had no desire to repeat the experience, though he felt confident Donatello wouldn't take him to a cold man, ever, even if he did fall and hurt his leg. Donatello was the nicest kind of grown up Isamu'd ever met.

He made his way down the stairs, and edged across the room toward the sparkling orange ball. Another shout had him freezing in place.

"_It weren't Donny's fault, Leo…"_

That was Raphael! Isamu stared toward the room the shout came from for a moment, frozen with confusion and worry. He glanced at the stairs. They hadn't seemed so _tall_ coming down. Going back up sounded scary. He looked around, wondering vaguely if he should hide before he was discovered.

Someone hurried past, startling Isamu so badly he fell backward, landing on his bottom with a _thump_. He hadn't heard the grown up coming at all. Fortunately the grown up didn't seem to notice him. He rushed past, hurrying into the room. Isamu moved in that direction, fascinated. Something about the grown up was different. First, his hair was short, but it was all over his face. Second, something came out from under the robe he wore… something like… a tail. Isamu would've giggled if not for the shouting.

Cautiously, he moved toward the room, curiosity overcoming his fear. He peeked around the door. Ah! There was Donatello, and Raphael too! Isamu would've rushed forward, but the grown up he'd just seen, the one with the fur, was there too, and he was angry, Isamu could tell by the way he stood, his shoulders slightly forward, and his… tail… twitching.

"Sorry, Sensei. We're jus'... discussin' dis," growled Raphael. He was angry. His eyes were hard and he was not smiling.

"My sons. You must not allow this matter to divide you," the grown up with all the hair was saying.

"_Hai_, Sensei."

Donatello… no, that wasn't Donatello. Isamu frowned. There was _another_ grown up like Donatello and Raphael, with a blue cloth on his face. He was angry too. His eyes were dark and cold behind the cloth. Isamu shivered. They _all_ looked angry. It was time to get out of there, before someone got angry with _him. _He turned away from the door and darted across the room, back toward the stairs.

The only safe place, when everyone got angry, was his room. He could go into his closet, and Mrs. Lady would leave him alone, usually. There was no closet in the room he'd slept in, but his bed was there, and it seemed safer than staying down here.

He'd almost made it to the stairs when someone caught his arm. Isamu bit back a cry. Noise only made grown ups angry. He wanted to shout, to call for Donatello, but he'd practiced silence for too many years. His voice wouldn't work.

"What do we have here?" The words were quiet, not shouting, not angry.

Isamu looked up. This grown-up was shorter than Donatello, though he still seemed very tall. It was the grown-up with the fur. He had hair all over, even on his face. He reminded Isamu of Joe, the man who fixed things, but he smelled different. Joe had fur on his face, too, but a sharp, sour scent hung around him. This grown up smelled sweet and warm and nice. A memory tugged at the back of Isamu's mind. Someone else had smelled like this grown-up, a very long time ago, almost longer than he could remember…

The grown up smiled. "Do not fear, little one," he said gently. "No one here will harm you. Is your name, perhaps Isamu?"

"Isamu," he replied shyly, nodding.

The grown up knew his name. His hand was strong, but soft on Isamu's arm, and his eyes were warm when he smiled, like Donatello's. So it was all right after all. This different-looking grown up was, perhaps, safe.

"I am Splinter."

"Sp-intah?" The name felt odd on his tongue, but nice.

"That is right."

"Don-tello," said Isamu, looking toward the room where he'd seen the Turtles. Maybe this grown up could take him back to Donatello.

"Ah," Splinter chuckled. "So you were seeking my son, Donatello?"

"Don-tello." Isamu nodded decisively.

"My sons are otherwise occupied at the moment," Splinter told him. "Perhaps Sierra or Ann can prepare you something to eat while I… settle them down."

"See-ra? Ann?" Isamu was slightly disappointed. He really wanted Donatello, but Sierra and Ann were nice, too.

"Yes." Splinter took his hand and led him toward the stairs. Isamu went with him willingly. Walking up stairs alone was scary, but walking up stairs with a friendly grown up holding his hand wasn't nearly so intimidating.

Hearing a door open above, Isamu looked up. Sierra had come out onto the long balcony, and she was looking around as if searching for something.

"Isamu?" she called quietly.

"See-ra." Isamu pointed, grinning up at Splinter.

"Indeed. Sierra, I believe our young guest would like some breakfast," said Splinter as Sierra came down to them. Isamu grasped the sleeve of Splinter's robe, but her eyes were still soft, even though she was frowning a little.

"Oh! Oh, Splinter, I…"

There was a loud _crash_. Isamu instinctively moved closer to Splinter.

"Please. Take the child," said Splinter, frowning. "I must go and…" He was still talking but Sierra rushed past them both, toward the source of the noise. Isamu swayed, clutching at Splinter's robe. Splinter's hand on his back steadied him. "Sierra, wait," he called.

"See-ra?" Isamu asked, staring after the woman.

Splinter picked him up and carried him to the bottom of the stairs. He set him down on the floor.

"Stay here, Isamu-kun."

Isamu watched in confusion as Splinter rushed toward the room Sierra had disappeared into. He heard more shouting.

"Raphael! _Leonardo_! Stop this at once!"

He stood, trembling, and glanced toward the stairs. Without Splinter's warm, furred hand in his own, they once again looked tall and frightening. The shouting had quieted a little. Isamu moved toward the room, shivering.

_I want Donatello…_

He peered through the door, fearful, but drawn to the memory of strong arms and a soft voice. The Turtles seemed to be wrestling, as he'd sometimes seen the older children do in the alley behind the children's home.

Raphael was scrambling to his feet. His fists were clenched and his eyes were angry and hard. The Turtle with the blue cloth was angry too. He pushed the other Turtle away. This one had an orange cloth on his face. The one with the orange didn't look angry. He looked worried, like the older children when Mrs. Lady talked to them.

Isamu's eyes widened. The one with the blue cloth was bleeding. He had a cut above his eye. He wondered if he'd fallen down and hurt himself. Mrs. Lady fell down sometimes, usually in the evenings when the funny, sharp smell that lingered around her was strongest.

"Are you boys proud of yourselves?" scolded Sierra. "Fighting like children! Honestly."

"Sierra." The Turtle with the blue cloth looked at Sierra, his eyes going soft and worried, too. He reached out to her, but she took a step back, shaking her head.

"Look at you. The two of you!"

Isamu edged forward, reaching up to grasp Splinter's sleeve.

"See-ra mad?" he whispered. Splinter's hand moved to his shoulder, and Isamu moved closer. Splinter felt warm and strong, and his hand on Isamu's shoulder felt safe.

"This doesn't concern you, Sierra," growled the Turtle with the blue.

Isamu watched, wide-eyed.

"Oh no? You're in here fighting with your _brother_, getting yourself _hurt_, and you don't think it _concerns_ me?" Sierra was shouting now. "How _dare_ you, Leo?"

"Raph was out of line," yelled the Turtle. "They went behind my back, which I was willing to forgive, but then they brought that Foot brat _here_, where he's a danger to our _family_, to our _clan_, and no one seems to understand that but _me._"

"Leonardo." The snap in Splinter's voice made Isamu jump. "Enough!"

"You can't _agree_ with them, Sensei!"

Isamu whimpered, cringing against Splinter's side. Everyone was angry, shouting. He stared at the Turtle with the blue cloth and the angry scowl, shivering.

"You are frightening the child, my son," said Splinter quietly.

Isamu saw the Turtle's eyes go wide and dark. He took a step back as if he'd seen something scary. Sierra shook her head. She turned away and came to Splinter. Isamu took a step back, but she knelt down, holding out her hands. Her eyes were soft again.

Isamu threw himself forward, winding his arms around her neck and clinging to her. He buried his face in her shoulder. He was scared, but it felt so _good_ to be held.

"He's just a little boy, Leo," she said, turning. "What his father did, how he lived, and how he died, was not his fault."

She turned away, and carried him out of the room. Isamu was glad. He wanted to stay as far away from the shouting and the angry Turtle with the blue cloth as possible.


	30. Chapter 29 Get Well

**Chapter 29 ~_Janey_~**

Janey Abramson shifted uncomfortably. The large man gathering her belongings into a box was dropping them unceremoniously, handling her things far too roughly.

"Can't we wait for Luci to come home?" she pleaded faintly. "Luci knows what I'll need…"

"Sorry Mrs. Abramson," said the second man gruffly. He was tall and lanky with dark hair and sharp blue eyes. "Your husband wants you moved to the facility as soon as possible."

"I suppose Rin does know best," sighed Janey. "He always was decisive. But I haven't seen him for years… I can't imagine why he'd bother doing this…"

The man didn't answer, but Janey couldn't quite bring herself to care. The medication was making her particularly sleepy today for some reason. She wondered vaguely what Luci would say.

"You did call my sister, didn't you? I'd have to have her travel all the way back home, only to find I've moved to the city!" She laughed weakly.

"Don't you worry, Mrs. Abramson," said the tall man with a smile. "We've got it all under control."

The smile made her feel cold. It reminded her of Rin, the last time she saw him, and a flicker of fear fluttered in the woman's chest. Fighting back the haze that threatened to cloud her brain, she struggled to sit up, but her limbs felt heavy and she was floating…

"I'd really rather wait for Lucille." Even to Janey's ears her voice sounded thin and weak. "Lucille takes care of everything…"

"You just take it easy now, Mrs. Abramson," said the dark-haired man. Vaguely Janey was aware that he was smiling again, but she was so tired… She sank back into the bedding, the familiar warm darkness rising to swallow her. "Your husband is going to take care of everything."

* * *

Lucille Chesney rolled over, breathing in the faint, sweet scent of incense and tea and smiled before she even opened her eyes. The scents seemed to permeate the Lair, as Austin called her odd subterranean home.

_It really is a home, even though it's underground,_ thought Lucille. _I never would have guessed that an old tunnel could be such a comfortable place to live. _She sat up, stretching, and scooped the jade pendent off the little table that served as a nightstand. She fingered the heart-shaped charm for a moment before fixing the chain once more around her neck. _As much as I've enjoyed spending this time with Austin, I'll need to leave soon. It's a long drive back to New Jersey, and I really stay away any longer. Janey needs me._

Making her way out downstairs, she paused. Sierra was coming through the main part of the Lair toward the kitchen, a child… Lucille blinked… a _human_ child snuggled in her arms.

"Sierra, good morning. And who's this handsome little fellow?" asked Lucille, stepping forward.

To her slight shock, the boy whimpered, hiding his face against Sierra's shoulder.

"His name is Isamu," said Sierra quietly. "I'm afraid he's a little… shy. Isamu, this is Ms. Chesney. Can you say hello?"

"Luci, dear," corrected Lucille gently. She reached out, touching the tiny hand that was clutching Sierra's ebony ringlets as if she were his lifeline.

The child jerked, and dark, fearful eyes came up to meet her gaze.

"Hello, Isamu," said Lucille softly. "I'm Luci."

The boy's brow creased in a faint frown. His gaze flickered to Sierra's face and back to Lucille. "Luci?"

"You're a smart one, aren't you?" said Luci with a smile.

The dark brown eyes watched her for a few more seconds before a tentative smile spread over his face.

"He has such beautiful eyes… a bit like Leonardo's," remarked Lucille, not quite making it a question.

Sierra turned to face Luci, shaking her head with a faint smile. "He's not ours," she said. "I'm just going to get breakfast started. Would you like something?"

Luci was startled to see tears standing in the woman's eyes.

"Sierra, I… I don't want to intrude, dear, but is everything all right?"

The woman closed her eyes and drew a deep breath through her nose. Lucille moved forward instinctively, putting a firm hand on her shoulder.

"Come on. Let's get this young man something to eat," she said, steering her toward the kitchen. "I may be a stranger here, but I know one thing; a friendly ear eases burdens."

Sierra's eyes snapped open and she stared at Lucille.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you," said Luci a bit uncertainly.

Sierra shook her head. "No… I'm sorry, Luci. It's just… Splinter says something like that all the time."

"Splinter seems like an amazing person," Luci replied without thinking. She felt herself color, but Sierra nodded, a faint smile appearing.

"He really is."

Lucille followed the younger woman into the kitchen. Isamu watched her over Sierra's shoulder, his eyes dark, suspicious, and wise far beyond his tender years.

"You dear child," whispered Luci. "Who's done this to you?"

"What?" Sierra glanced at her.

"Nothing, dear. I just…" Luci took a breath, meeting Isamu's eyes again. "Forgive me, Sierra, but, this child… Well, he seems a bit afraid." She met the woman's eyes, and was startled to see a depth of pain and understanding mixing there. Lucille held her breath, afraid for a moment Sierra would be offended, angry at the suggestion, but to her surprise the woman nodded.

"He was being abused. Donatello brought him here to protect him," she said softly. "We… don't know yet, where he'll end up, but he's safer here than anywhere in the city."

"What about social services?" Lucille asked automatically.

Sierra's green eyes flashed for an instant before going soft and sad again. "It's… complicated."

"Well, who does he belong to?" Lucille pressed. "Surely he has family…"

"He's an orphan. We… don't know yet, if he has any other family. Don will find out."

Lucille opened her mouth, and closed it again. She was not normally shy about sharing her opinions, but the past couple days had introduced her to a world she hadn't even known existed. She felt a bit out of step, a little uncertain. Sierra moved toward the stove, with the child still clinging, and set water to boil.

"Tea?" she asked. "I'll make coffee too. Isamu, darling, you're going to have to sit in a chair, ok, so I can fix you some breakfast. Why don't you sit down here with Ms… with Luci?"

"Coffee would be lovely, Sierra," said Lucille. "I'd be honored to sit with you, Isamu."

The boy peeked over Sierra's shoulder at her. "Luci." He whispered. Sierra smiled, depositing him gently in a chair.

"That's right." She tousled the boy's hair. He flinched, glancing up at her, but a small smile tugged at his lips. He glanced at Luci.

"See-ra," he announced, pointing.

"That's right, that's your friend, Sierra," praised Lucille.

Sierra flashed a smile over her shoulder, and went on gathering eggs and bacon from the refrigerator. "How about omelets, Isamu?" she suggested. "Mike likes bacon in his. Do you like bacon?"

"Bacon."

Lucille smiled. The boy certainly seemed at home with Sierra. He sat looking around with interest. Sierra slid a plate in front of him. Lucille's smile grew when she saw the bits of what looked like apple and banana cut into bite-sized pieces.

Isamu sat, staring at the plate. He looked at Sierra, who was at the counter cutting open the package of bacon, and back at the plate.

"Sierra's fixed you a nice plate of fruit," said Luci. "Fruit is good for little boys. It helps you grow."

"Fruit?"

"That's right, Isamu. That's for you," said Sierra, nodding.

The boy reached out cautiously, choosing a bit of banana. He stuck it in his mouth, swallowing almost immediately, reaching for another piece.

He looked up as someone came into the kitchen. "Isamu fruit!" he announced, grinning.

Lucille turned to see a Turtle coming into the room. He wore a purple bandana.

"Good morning, Isamu. Sierra gave you some fruit, huh?"

"Isamu fruit."

"Good. Is there any coffee, Sierra?"

"You got it Don."

Sierra was already coming to the table, two steaming cups in her hands. She set them down in front of Don and Luci.

"Don, this is Austin's aunt, Lucille," said Sierra

"Oh! Oh, hi." The olive-green Turtle blushed. "I'm sorry. I guess I was a little… distracted."

"That's quite all right…"

"Donatello." He stood up, reaching across the table to shake her hand. "It's nice to meet you properly, Ms. Chesney."

"Please, call me Luci."

"Luci, then." Donatello sank into his seat, taking a sip of his coffee. "Sierra, you are the _best_."

The young woman smiled, turning back to the stove. The enticing aroma of bacon filled the room. Austin came into the room, carrying Skylar and Kouki.

She handed Kouki off to Donatello, and went to Sierra. "Ann told me what's going on. She'll be down in a minute; she's talking to Raph. Are you all right?" Skylar reached for Sierra, smiling.

Sierra nodded, taking the baby's green fingers in her own. "I'm fine. Leo's the one with the problem."

"Oh, he'll be all right, _ane_. He just needs time. Donny, will you hold Skylar? I'll help Sierra fix breakfast."

"Sure." Don smiled as Austin handed him the baby. She gurgled, reaching up to swat at his face.

"Sky-lar fruit?" suggested Isamu, holding out a bit of rather mushed banana.

"That's nice, Isamu, but you go ahead and eat," said Donatello gently. "Skylar will have some eggs in a moment."

"Ku-ki fruit?" asked Isamu.

Don shook his head. "That's ok, Isamu. Kouki just finished a bottle."

Isamu looked at his plate, then up at Donatello. "Don-tello fruit?" he asked.

"Isamu, that's for you," said Don, smiling.

The little boy looked at Don, his eyes wide with confusion for a moment, before settling down and taking a bit of apple. He held it to his mouth, looking at Don. Donatello grinned, nodding, and Isamu laughed, stuffing the fruit into his mouth.

Lucille watched, a smile tugging at her lips. Whatever the circumstances surrounding the boy's presence in the Lair, it was clear that Donatello was a good influence.

Isamu was still giggling when Leonardo came into the kitchen. As Luci watched, his face changed from innocent happiness to uncertainty and fear in an instant. The little boy scrambled off the chair and rushed around the table to cling to Donatello. He hid his face against the Turtle's side.

"Hey… Hey, Isamu, it's ok. That's just Leonardo," said Don. "Here, Luci, can you take Skylar?"

Luci reached gladly for the baby, smiling as she settled her in her lap. Skylar giggled and banged the table. Donatello gently pried Isamu's fingers off the edge of his plastron and scooped him up, settling him on his other leg. The boy buried his face against Don's shoulder, clinging. He murmured something to Don that Lucille couldn't hear. She glanced at the blue-masked Turtle and was startled to see him scowling.

"Isamu, it's ok," Donatello was saying quietly. "Leo's not mad at you, Buddy."

Leonardo snorted softly, but didn't say anything. He gathered his cup of tea and leaned toward Sierra, but she jerked away. His eyes widened for an instant with unmistakable hurt, before he turned and stalked out of the room without so much as a word to anyone.

"That went well," said Don a bit grimly.

Lucille sipped her coffee, uncomfortable with the tension.

Sierra turned. "You did the right thing, Don. Leo will see that. He's just…" She glanced at Lucille and shook her head. "He's just upset right now."

Lucille watched Austin dump the eggs she'd been cooking onto a plate. "I'll go talk to him," she said. "He's being a shell-head and it's time he got over himself."

No one demurred as the woman left the kitchen.

Only minutes had passed before she was back, her eyes wide.

"Austin, what happened? What's wrong? Did Leo..." Donatello was on his feet in an instant, reaching out to her, but she brushed past him and went to Lucille, kneeling at her side. Kouki protested his father's standing up with a loud squawk.

"Aunt Luci, did you know anything about Mom being moved to New York?" she asked, breathless.

"What? No! She's in New Jersey, in hospice care at home," replied Luci, feeling as if all the air had drained from the room.

"Beverly just called from the hospital. They've got her, Aunt Luci. She's just been transferred. Bev got a look at the papers… Aunt Luci, _Father_ ordered this."


	31. Chapter 30 Koi

**Chapter 30 ~_Koi_**~

Splinter's brush slid across the page, scratching slightly against the surface. A lotus petal arced, graceful, and he paused to admire the way it curled, reaching up joyfully toward an imaginary sky. _Such beauty should not be kept underground._ The thought passed through his mind idly, and he frowned at the pang of emotion it caused. _Lotus blossoms start darkness, buried under the still water, but they need sun to bloom._

Splinter sighed, wiping his brush on the rag nearby and laying it aside.

_Surely my concern over Austin's leaving with her oba-san to visit her mother should not cause me such discomfort. She is quite safe from attack in such a public place, and Michelangelo is in constant contact with her with the monitoring device Donatello gave her to carry. _

The painting was only half-finished, but he found himself wishing he had not begun.

_Perhaps a koi fish swimming will balance the composition,_ he thought, cocking his head to look critically at his work. The lotus sat, sadly incomplete. He did his best to ignore it, but it called out for attention. With a sigh, Splinter looked away, toward the shrine of his late master, Yoshi. The longing seemed to settle even more deeply in his heart.

_What is this disquiet in my spirit, Master?_ he wondered, half to himself. The feeling of loss when he contemplated Teng Shin and Yoshi's deaths was a familiar ache, faded by time. This new restlessness felt similar, but it lay over him like a fine net, constantly with him.

He'd tried meditation, but for the first time in many years, the spiritual plane did not rise up to meet him easily like an old friend. There was some disturbance, some disquiet in himself, that he couldn't quite pin down. He felt restless, as if he were seeking something… and he could not discover what it was he craved. He had hoped to find peace in his paints, but even the familiar discipline was bringing him no relief.

With a heavy sigh, he rose, carefully washing the brush in the cup he kept nearby, and setting the painting aside to dry. He would try again later. He moved out into the main Lair. For now, everything was quiet.

After his outburst in the morning, Leonardo had retreated into his room. Sierra and Ann had taken the human child for an outing in the park, feeling secure in the knowledge that the Purple Dragons had targeted Austin specifically and would not make an attempt against them in a public place in broad daylight. They were being monitored as well, via the shell-cells the girls carried at all times, and Donatello had sewn a minute tracking device into the collar of the boy's tee-shirt, ensuring his safety as well.

Donatello was in his lab, and the scents of paper and ink wafted from Michelangelo's room, telling Splinter his youngest son was also in the process of creation. The faint strains of noise… Splinter refused to think of the crashing, banging, clanging racket his sons seemed so enamored with as "music", came from Raphael's room.

Splinter swiveled one ear, just catching the sound of a muffled giggle. A smile touched the Rat's lips. Raphael was no doubt entertaining Kouki as he sometimes did while Beverly worked so Donatello could have some time to himself. Splinter shook his head. Of all the Turtles, he had least expected Raphael to be so enchanted by the smile of a child.

_Yet, it is not so surprising_, he thought, settling into his chair. _Raphael is the most tempestuous of my sons, because his emotions are the closest to the surface. He is no more able to hide his feelings than Michelangelo._

Stretching for the remote, Splinter clicked on the television, and flipped to a particular channel. _Ah, just in time._ The theme music announced his favorite soap opera was about to begin.

For the first twenty minutes or so, he watched, entranced by the foibles of the human characters. As Monica swept into the dining room, and Joey leapt to his feet, going to her, Splinter leaned forward in his chair.

"_Monica! How I've longed for this moment…" _

Joey kissed her hand, gazing at his love with adoration. Splinter smiled. These two star-crossed lovers were fated to be together, her just knew it. He loved a happy ending. But Monica was withdrawing her hand, stepping back. Splinter frowned.

_No. This is not how it is supposed to happen. She should fall into his arms, declare her undying love. She should renounce her father's fortune and remain with him on his family's farm._

"_Joey, I… I'm sorry. We can't be together. Our worlds are too different… _We're_ too different…" _

Splinter watched in horror as she turned away. Joey stood gaping, his brown eyes wide with grief.

"_Monica… I thought… I thought you loved me._"

"_I do Joey, but… I can't do this. I'm sorry. Good bye."_

Splinter sat back in his chair as the scene faded into darkness and switched to a bizarre commercial featuring dancing kittens singing about toasted sandwiches.

He swallowed hard, realizing a lump had formed in his throat, and shook his head, feeling dismayed, cheated, and deeply disappointed. Suddenly his stories had no further appeal. He reached for the remote and with a _click_, the kittens disappeared, leaving him alone.

The Rat sat, his tail twitching, staring at the screen, for a long moment, before a sound from the dojo wriggled irritatingly into his consciousness.

_Thud._

Splinter twitched. _Surely Raphael is in his room. He and Leonardo argued earlier, but I thought Raphael understood his brother's anger…_

_Thud._

_Thud._

Irritated, Splinter rose, heading for the dojo. Normally he didn't interfere in Raphael's venting sessions with his punching bag, but the emotion behind the blows seemed excessive. Raphael had matured a great deal since marrying Ann, and Splinter had come to expect a higher level of self-control from the Turtle than he'd thought possible when his sons were teenagers.

"Raphael, my son, have I not told you that anger is like a burning fire, and out of control it can destroy you?" he began as he stepped through the doors.

At the sight of the figure lashing out at the battered punching bag, Splinter stopped. A flash of blue, and another _thud_ echoed through the dojo.

"Leonardo?"

His eldest son lowered his arm to his side, his shoulders slumping slightly. He turned slowly, and gave Splinter a courteous bow.

"I'm sorry, Sensei. Did I disturb you?"

His voice was quiet, at his most controlled and formal, his eyes distant.

Splinter stepped into the dojo and approached.

"Leonardo. What troubles you, my son?"

"Nothing, Father. I was just…" Leo trailed off, meeting Splinter's eyes. He bowed his head, acknowledging what his father saw in his gaze more readily than he might have just a few months prior. "I never could hide anything from you, Father."

"No, Leonardo, nor should you try," answered Splinter. He came close, and Leo knelt almost automatically. Splinter took a cross-legged position near him on the tatami mat. "You know that I am here to listen, Leonardo," he chided gently.

Leo nodded. "I know, Father."

"Then will you share this burden with me?"

The Turtle drew a deep, shuddering breath, letting it out slowly, visibly gathering himself. "I… I apologize, Father. For my outburst this morning. I was… out of line."

"Leonardo. You owe me no apology, my son. Perhaps you should speak with your brothers."

"I don't know what to say to them, Sensei," whispered Leo. "I talked to Donny last night. I told him I was ok with what he and Mike did… They should've told me first, but they acted with honor. But this morning, hearing that… that the boy was here… In the Lair… in our _home_…" He drew in a deep breath. "I lost my temper. I'm sorry, Father."

"My son." Splinter reached out, guiding Leonardo's chin so that he had to look up. Dark eyes peered at him, searching, from behind the blue mask. Splinter smiled, noticing how the gold flecks reflected the light of the dojo, giving Leo a softer, more vulnerable appearance. "This is difficult for you. Tell me, what do you see in this child?"

Leo blinked. "I see the son of an enemy," he responded readily. He turned away, glaring at the floor as if it had offended him. "How is it that my _wife_ can't see it?"

"Sierra is a wise soul," Splinter answered quietly, ignoring Leo's snort."She has learned much from you, Leonardo, and you from her. It is the way of lifemates to complete one another." He ignored the slight pang that tugged at his own heart as he spoke.

Leonardo shook his head. "She doesn't understand," he said stubbornly. "All she sees when she looks at him is a child. She can't see the danger."

"What danger is there in him, Leonardo?" pressed Splinter gently.

"He's Foot," answered Leo flatly.

"He is a child, my son."

"He can't stay here." Leonardo went on as if Splinter hadn't spoken. "But Don's responsible for him now. What should we do with him?"

"I do not know, Leonardo. Perhaps Ann, or April, can advise us. Donatello may be able to discover if the boy has family outside the city. Perhaps there is someone who wants him, who can keep him safe."

"Perhaps." Leonardo nodded. When he looked up this time, he met Splinter's eyes steadily, determination burning in his gaze.

"I should go talk to Donatello," he said.

Splinter simply waited.

Leonardo paused. "And Raphael," he added finally.

"Yes, my son."

"And Sierra," Leo said, half to himself. A slight frown creased his brow. Leonardo gave Splinter another bow before leaving the dojo, his steps purposeful.

Splinter rose, suppressing a sigh. The heavy bag, swinging on its chain, caught his eye. Almost without thinking, he lashed out with a round-house kick, sending the bag swinging back from the shock of the blow. He followed with a rapid series of punches that had the heavy leather indenting under the onslaught. Finally he paused, his breathing barely changed, though adrenaline was coursing through his veins. The restlessness seemed to have subsided, a little.

Straightening, Splinter gave a short bow to his 'opponent', a satisfied smile making his whiskers twitch just a little before he turned away, moving back toward the main room of the Lair, thinking to return to his painting.

_Perhaps a touch of blue, on the underside of the lotus petals_, he thought_, as they reflect the water…_

He'd made it barely half-way to his room when the quiet rumble and _swish _of the elevator doors announced someone returning. He paused, his ears swiveling. A faint scent reached him, and he turned, his heart lightening and a strange eagerness urging him to greet his daughter-in-law and her aunt as they entered the Lair.

To his mild surprise, Austin and Lucille were accompanied by Beverly. One look told him the visit had not gone well. Beverly's shoulders were hunched, tight with tension. Lucille's arm was around Austin's trembling shoulders. She looked… exhausted. Splinter started instinctively forward to offer comfort, nearly reaching for her hand before his natural reserve stopped him.

"Splinter." Austin bowed her head to him. Tears slid down her cheeks. "Is… Is Donny in his lab?"

"Yes, Austin, I believe so. What has happened, child?"

"It's… it's Mother. I… we have to get her out of there… Don can help. I know he can. He can figure out how Father's doing this, and how we can stop him."

Austin sniffed, and her chin rose. "I have to talk to Don. Please, excuse me, Sensei."

"Of course," Splinter murmured.

"I'd better go with her," said Beverly quietly. "Lucille, will you be all right?"

"Of course, dear," answered Luci, forcing a small smile. "Go. Explain this to your husband. I don't know what he can do to help, but anything that comforts Austin can't hurt."

"Perhaps you would like to join me in the kitchen for a cup of tea, Lucille-san?"

The words left Splinter's mouth before he was aware he'd intended to speak. He felt color rising in his cheeks and was grateful for the fur that hid the slight embarrassment.

"I'd… like to," answered Lucille. She met his eyes, and blinked, as if seeing him for the first time. "Thank you. I'd like that very much."


	32. Chapter 31 Distress

**Chapter 31 ~**_**Distress**_

Donatello looked up as his wife entered the lab. The familiar scent of strawberries reached him before the door opened, and he was turning in his chair, a smile of greeting already beginning, when Bev walked in, one arm firmly around Austin's waist.

The smile faded as Don took in his sister-in-law's haggard, almost desperate look.

"Bev? Austin? What's wrong?"

"Donny…" Austin surged forward, wrapping her arms around his neck before he could fully rise out of his chair, nearly knocking him backward again. Don caught the slightest frown creasing Beverly's brow before it disappeared into a concerned expression, but he ignored his wife's twinge of jealousy for the moment. Beverly had never had a real problem with his close relationship with Austin.

He patted her back somewhat awkwardly. "Austin, what's wrong? Tell me. Let me help."

"It… it's mother." Austin stood up, stepping back, glancing at Bev as she wiped her eyes. The older woman reached out, gripping her arm in a comforting gesture. "Father… He…." Sobs shook her shoulders, threatening to overwhelm her again.

"He's got custody of Austin's mother," explained Beverly gently. "He's had her moved _here_, to General."

Don glanced at his wife. There was more in her tone that she wasn't saying in front of Austin. Slowly, he nodded. "Austin, don't worry. She's safe enough in the hospital, right?" He glanced at Bev.

She nodded grimly. "I'm going back up right now," she told him. "I cleared a quick break with the charge nurse to bring Austin home, but technically I'm still on duty anyway. I'll make sure word goes around. No one will get near her who isn't authorized."

Beverly met Don's eyes for an instant. _But there's no protecting her from Rin_. He heard the thought as clearly as if she'd spoken. He gave her the slightest nod of understanding.

"Austin, why don't you tell Mikey what's going on," he suggested gently. "You should rest. You've been through a lot these past few days."

"Donny, we've got to get her out of there," pleaded Austin. "We can't just leave her… what if Father… He means to harm her, I just know it. Don… please, you've got to help her…" She clung to his hands, staring into his eyes. Donatello had never felt so helpless.

"Austin, I promise we will do everything we can to protect her," he told her. He flicked a glance toward Beverly. _Help?_

"He won't get near her as long as I'm on duty," said Bev firmly, grasping Austin's shoulder. "And I'll talk to Elizabeth. She's the charge nurse. I'll let her know what's going on. Your parents have been separated a long time, Austin. His legal standing for taking custody is shaky at best. Don't worry. I'll make sure she's safe."

Austin looked from one to the other. Don could see the thoughts churning behind her eyes, the worry, fear and confusion. Finally she nodded.

"If I can't trust my family, who can I trust?" she murmured. "I… I'm going to talk to Mike." She gave Don one last squeeze before stepping back. He saw tears standing in her eyes and reached up to squeeze her shoulder gently. A faint smile touched her lips before she turned to Bev, giving her quick hug too.

"I know you guys will do your best," she said softly. _Doomo arigatoo._"

She turned and hurried from the room.

Don let out the breath he hadn't been aware of holding. "What the shell is going on, Bev?"

Beverly shook her head. "I don't have all the details yet, but as far as I can tell, Rin Abramson got himself named Janey Abramson's custodian, at least temporarily until a Family Court hearing. It means… he can make medical decisions for her, Don. With the fragile state of her health… this could be bad."

"How bad?"

"Do you remember the Terri Schiavo case?"

Don sucked in a sharp breath. He'd watched the news reports with sickened fascination as the husband and parents of a disabled woman had fought over her final wishes in court, finally resulting in the removal of her feeding tube.

Beverly watched him, her mouth set in a grim line. "Donny, this could get extremely ugly."

Don rubbed a hand over his face. "Austin couldn't stand up to that kind of … Well, her mother isn't likely to linger for months and years, is she? I thought Lucille said…" He paused, lowering his voice. "I thought Lucille said she's dying."

"She is. I'd say she has a few weeks, perhaps a couple months, at best. But you saw Austin. Don, she couldn't even bring herself to visit her mother today. Lucille went in, but Austin asked us not to tell her she was there. I've never seen her that freaked out."

_I have_, thought Don. _When she told Mikey about her time as a Foot soldier and he ran. When she thought she'd lost him._

"Don… he could conceivably stop Austin from seeing her at all. He could get an injunction. With the fragile state of her health, the court wouldn't give him much trouble. He could… stop Luci from seeing her sister as well."

Donatello sucked a sharp breath through his teeth. "You're right. This _could_ get ugly."

"I've got to be getting back." Beverly glanced at her watch. "Will you tell the others what's going on?"

Donatello nodded. "Leo and Sensei will know what to do," he said.

Beverly reached up to cup a hand against his cheek. She smiled, and leaned in for a kiss, stealing all of Don's oxygen for a moment. "I hope so," she said quietly.

Don wandered toward the kitchen, the faint scent of tea announcing his father's presence there. Normally he would've gone to Leonardo with a problem like this one, but he shied away from the idea of speaking to his eldest brother just now.

"Splinter, I…" Donatello trailed off as he stepped into the kitchen. The scene before him seemed surreal. Splinter sat at the table, a cup of tea steaming gently in front of him. Lucille sat across from him. The pair looked as natural as old friends, but that wasn't what had Don stopping, cocking his head, and watching them.

Something in the way his father's eyes glinted caught Don's attention. He watched the Rat, trying to work out what it was, exactly, that he was seeing. Splinter was listening, nodding sympathetically, as Lucille spoke. Her voice was low enough so Don could barely hear her. He noticed the rhythm and tone of her voice had changed. She was looking directly at Splinter as she spoke, something, Don realized with a start, he'd rarely seen any human, even their close friends, do. His father's personality tended to be overwhelming, no one could hold his gaze for long.

There was something in the way his father was looking at the woman… He was sympathetic, compassionate, as always, but there seemed to be something more in the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, the way his whiskers were twitching slightly.

_Leo looked like that, a little… the first time we met Sierra._ Don thought. _Except Leo was more… dazed. A little lost, as if he weren't quite sure what to make of her. Splinter looks almost… _

"Donatello, my son." His father's greeting startled Don out of his reverie.

"Oh! Umm, Sensei, I… um…"

"Did you wish to speak with me, Donatello?"

"Yes, Father." Don fought down the color he could feel rising in his cheeks. "Father, Austin has told me about the situation with her mother." He glanced at Lucille. "I'm so sorry, Luci."

"Thank you, Donatello," she said softly.

Splinter glanced across the table, a frown creasing his brow. "Our family will aid you in whatever way we can Lucille."

Donatello blinked. It had taken his father over a year to call April by her first name.

_Maybe it's because she's older, closer to his own age?_

Shaking his head as if to clear it, he continued.

"Bev will keep an eye on her, and see that she comes to no harm, but we're limited in how much we can do simply by the public nature of the hospital."

Lucille was nodding. "I understand, Donatello. I've got to talk to a lawyer, and find out what Janey's legal rights are. I'll have to move fast, before Rin has her declared mentally incompetent. If he can prove she's not able to make her own choices, there won't be much more I can do."

"Maybe Ann can help in that department," suggested Don. "Raphael's wife is a lawyer, though her firm handles more business law than family court."

Lucille hesitated. "I…" She glanced at Splinter, and flushed slightly. "I'd be grateful," she said finally. "I hate to impose upon your family, but…" The color deepened. "Well to be honest, money is an issue. Janey's care has depleted my savings."

"Forgive me for asking," said Don, "But does she have any resources?"

"No. Janey was entirely dependent on Rin for many years." Lucille sighed. "After she left him, she found a job selling flowers, making arrangements, that sort of thing, but it was just enough to live on. She never did need much. When she took ill, she came to live with me. I took care of her myself until just a few weeks ago, when she needed more palliative care, then she moved to that little private facility Rin took her from."

"I see," said Don. _And I bet you paid for that "little private facility" out of your own pocket, without a word of complaint or a moment's hesitation. You really are an amazing woman, Lucille. I can see where Austin gets it from_.

"I will speak with Ann when she returns home," said Splinter, startling Don again. Rarely did Splinter take a personal interest in the family's affairs, preferring to trust his sons and daughters to handle things.

"Yes, Sensei."

"Meanwhile, Donatello, have you considered the future of your young ward?" asked Splinter gently.

Don shook his head in frustration. "A search last night turned up no living relatives, Father, and there's an investigation going on of the Children's Home. It burned the night we rescued him. Fortunately the children were rescued, but all the records were destroyed. Based on the testimony of some of the older children, and what the firemen found of code violations, the woman who ran the place is under arrest." Don couldn't keep the deep satisfaction out of his voice.

Splinter nodded. "He belongs with his own kind, Donatello," he said gently.

"Of course, Father," Don agreed quickly. "I'll talk to April again, and see if we can find a suitable place for him. He deserves a family, someone who will take care of him."

Lucille moved on her chair, but didn't speak. Don was aware of her eyes on him, but he kept his gaze steadfastly on his father's face.

"In the meantime, my son, perhaps it would be best if you allowed Leonardo some… space. He fears the child may be a danger to our clan."

Don snorted. "He's two. I doubt the Foot are recruiting spies at this age."

Splinter inclined his head. "Nonetheless, Donatello, I request that you consider the cause of your brother's feelings. The child represents a painful reminder to Leonardo."

"I know, Father." Don nodded.

The slightest rustle behind Donatello had him turning. Dark eyes met his own, burning behind a blue mask. Leonardo brushed past his brother, into the kitchen.

"Good evening, Father. Lucille," he said shortly before turning to the refrigerator. He pulled out a bottle of water, twisting the cap and taking a long pull, pointedly ignoring Donatello.

The _swish_ of the elevator doors and the happy child's giggle announced Sierra and Ann's return from the park. Leonardo tensed, lowering the water and meeting Don's gaze for a moment before turning his head.

"I'm going… out," he announced quietly. "For a run in the tunnels."

"Very well, my son," answered Splinter.

Leonardo gave one sharp nod and left the kitchen.

Don hesitated for a moment, glancing at Splinter_. Go_, his eyes seemed to say.

"Leo," called Don, turning to follow his brother. "Wait up, Bro."

He walked out to the main room of the Lair, only to be nearly knocked over by a tiny body crashing into his legs and clinging like a limpet.

"Don-tello!" Isamu beamed up at him with shining eyes.

"Hey, little buddy," said Don, gently disengaging the child. "Did you have fun at the park?"

"Isamu park!" the boy announced, grinning. "Swings!"

"You went on the swings? That's great. You can tell me all about it later, ok? I need to…"

He looked up, scanning the room for his brother, and caught sight of Leo standing near the door that led to the sewers. Leo was leaning on the wall, waiting for him presumably. The shadows lent him a hooded, dangerous look. He wasn't smiling.

Sierra was standing with her back to him, watching Isamu. Donatello noticed a faint frown creasing her brow, though she was forcing a smile for the child's sake.

Don shook his head. _Why is he being so _stubborn_? Can't he see what he's doing?_

He knew the answer of course. Leonardo was just being himself. His stubborn, boneheaded, determined leader self. When he considered something, or someone, a threat to his family, it took a long time to change his mind. Don sighed, rising.

_Well, I've got to try. Isamu's gonna be here a while. Whether Leo likes it or not, he's my responsibility. _

"I'll talk to you later, ok, little guy? I've got to go hang out with my Bro for a little while. Why don't you go on into the kitchen and see Splinter and Luci, ok?"

"Spin-tah?"

"Yep. I bet he's got some cake stashed in the 'fridge. He might share if you ask him nicely."

"Spin-tah cake?"

"That's right. Go on now."

Don watched, smiling, as the tot headed for the kitchen.

"He was great, Don," said Sierra quietly. "He loves the swings."

"Thanks for taking him, Sierra," answered Don.

"No problem."

"You coming, Don?" Leonardo huffed, turning to the door. Obviously his patience had run out.

_Geez, when did Raph change his mask to blue?_ Thought Don with mild irritation, but he forced it down.

"Coming, Leo."

He got to the door just in time to avoid having it close in his face, and headed out into the tunnels after his brother.


	33. Chapter 32 Running

**Chapter 32 ~**_**Running~**_

Leonardo didn't bother waiting. He took off down the tunnel, allowing his emotions to rise up and wash away with the adrenaline pumping through his veins. He knew why Don was coming along. Splinter wanted to give them a chance to talk. He was willing, but not yet. Not until he'd had a chance to run off some of the fury and confusion, and yes, even fear, he could admit it in the privacy of his own thoughts, that were churning inside him. Images of black-clad soldiers invading his home, attacking his family, swarming over them like cockroaches, seeking revenge for the abduction of their child, swarmed through his mind. _What would _we_ do if someone took one of ours? How will Karai handle this?_

It wasn't long before he heard Don's rhythmic strides. Donatello fell into a steady pace a few yards back, keeping his distance. That was all right with Leonardo. He would have preferred not to have a shadow at all, but if Don was going to follow him, the least he could do was stay back and keep his mouth shut.

The last thing Leo wanted to do just now was talk. He didn't want to think, didn't want to feel the presence that pressed upon the edges of his mind, waiting to speak. He didn't want to _listen._ He just wanted to run, and feel something beside the burning ache that set up in his chest when Sierra came into the Lair with the child. She'd avoided Leonardo's gaze, hadn't even acknowledged him. Ann was equally cold, barely glancing at him before she moved further into the Lair, staying close to Sierra, as if to shield her from her own husband.

_How can she… I don't understand. How can she stand to be near him? How can she bear the memories? _

He tucked his chin as if he could avoid the thought, and pushed on, picking up his speed just a little. He'd been pacing himself, controlling his breathing and taking measured strides in order to conserve his energy for a longer run rather than expending it all in one short sprint. Now he threw caution to the wind, and pushed himself harder.

He heard a faint rustle in Don's footsteps that told him his brother was faltering slightly, trying to fall into the rhythm of the pace Leo was setting, and failing, because Leo wasn't setting a disciplined pace now. He was just running for all he was worth, trying to outrun the pain that was building in his chest.

"Leo. Leo, wait up! _Leo!"_

Leonardo ignored his brother's call. Don's tone told him he was annoyed, but not injured or in trouble.

The hand that grasped his shoulder, spinning him around and nearly knocking him over was so unexpected he nearly lashed out even as brown eyes behind a purple mask registered in his mind.

"Leo! Didn't you hear me calling you?" panted Donatello, glaring. "What are you trying to do? Set a new land-speed record for mutated Turtles?"

"I _was_ trying to go for a quiet run," snapped Leonardo. He felt heat rise in his cheeks. "What's your _problem_, Donny?"

"My _problem_, Fearless, is your attitude!" responded his brother. "Leo, what's gotten _into_ you? Do you know how much you're hurting Sierra right now? Do you _care?_"

"Don't bring Sierra into this, Donny." Leonardo shook out of his brother's grasp, pacing away a few steps, his shoulders hunched.

"She's already _in_ this, Leo. We all are. We're a _family_, remember? We're all in this _together_, whether you like it or not." Donatello came closer, laying a firm hand on his brother's shoulder again. "Leo. We need to talk about this."

"No, we don't." Leonardo forced himself to turn and face his brother. "You need to put that kid back where he belongs, Don, and the sooner the better. Then we can all get back to our normal lives."

"Back where he belongs?" Donatello's eyes narrowed behind the mask.

"Back with other _humans_, clarified Leonardo. "Isn't there an agency or something? Let them deal with him."

"Do you really think shuffling Isamu off to some… _institution_ is the right way to handle this?"

Leo blinked at the fury snapping in his younger brother's eyes. He received death-glares from Raphael on an almost-daily basis. Even Michelangelo could hold a grudge if he were truly ticked off, but Donny rarely got angry, and never without a good reason.

_What kind of hold does this kid have over him? It's not like Don to get this emotional. He's usually so…_ sensible.

Donatello watched Leo for a long moment before shaking his head with what looked like disgust.

"Come on."

"What?" Leonardo stared.

"Come on. I want to show you something."

Leonardo hesitated, but Don turned to look at him. "Leo. Come with me. It's important."

Finally Leonardo nodded. "All right, Donatello, but you're wasting your time. There's nothing you can show me that will change my mind. That kid needs to be out of our lives as soon as possible."

Donatello stopped short, turning to face his brother. Leo noticed he looked… older. A slight frown creased his brow. He opened his mouth to speak, then just shook his head and motioned for Leo to follow.

They walked long enough to make Leo begin to wonder where on earth his brother was taking him. He frowned as they headed for a run-down part of town, near the warehouse district. The distinct smell of ocean air, composing primarily of fish, wafted through the grates.

"Donny, where…"

Donatello turned, holding up a hand to silence his brother. "We're here." He turned, not even waiting for Leonardo's questions, and climbed up the ladder, dislodging a manhole cover and pausing for a moment to look around before disappearing up into the alley.

Leo followed a bit more slowly, feeling the pull of over-worked muscles in his legs. _I need to work harder, extend my katas and focus on strength training…_

The thoughts were automatic. He knew perfectly well that he'd pushed himself beyond even his own impressive endurance, allowed his emotions to drive him, and the ache in his legs was the price for such foolish behavior.

He emerged through the manhole, glancing around, even though he knew his brother would warn him of any danger. Donatello was standing a few feet away, staring at the decrepit hulk of a blackened wall in front of them.

"Careful. There's a lot of rubble on the ground still," said Don in a thin, emotionless voice. He turned, and to Leo's surprise, disappeared down the alley, moving closer to the destruction.

"Donny, what…"

"Come on."

His brother had grasped the base of the fire escape on the next building, and was moving nimbly, silent as a cat, up the series of platforms. Don didn't bother with the ladders, preferring to simply scale the metal framework. Leonardo followed, feeling impatient. The sweat cooled on his skin, chilling him. Don stopped, dropping lightly onto a fire escape platform and waiting for his brother to join him. Once Leonardo was standing beside him, he pointed.

"See that window? Third from the left?"

"Yeah, what about it?" Leonardo strained to see the blackened hole against the dark out line of the ruined building.

"That's where we went in. See that room, next floor down, two windows to the right?"

"Yeah?" Leo shifted impatiently.

"That's where we saw the boy for the first time." Don's voice was quiet. "He was crying. The woman who runs… who _ran_, this hell-hole, she was yelling at him."

Leonardo saw Don's hands tighten on the railing.

"That's when she _slapped_ him, Leo."

"Donny…"

Don turned to face his brother, continuing as if he hadn't spoken. "She knocked him down, Leo."

His brown eyes were smoldering, fury and pain warring in his features. "Do you remember when we were little? How Splinter would discipline us?"

Leonardo nodded. He could still feel the tingle in his legs from the strain of the run, reminding him of the way they'd ached after a particularly severe punishment from their father.

"He made us do flips. So?"

"He never _hit_ us, Leo. We might've even earned a swat with his walking stick now and then, but he never once, as long as I can remember, slapped any of us across the face."

"Donny. Why is this so important to you?" Leonardo watched his younger brother, trying to puzzle out what was going through his mind.

Don turned away abruptly, staring at the burnt-out building. "I… I don't know, Bro. I really don't. But I know we did the right thing. Leo, you didn't see it… didn't see how scared and helpless he was. Imagine… imagine if someone hit _Kouki_ like that. What if I slapped my son's face? How would you feel then?"

He looked back at Leo, down at his hands, and back to his face, nodding. "Yeah. That's what I thought."

Leonardo glanced down. He hadn't realized his hands had balled into fists. Giving himself a mental shake, he deliberately relaxed.

"Donny…" Reaching out tentatively, he put a hand on Donatello's shoulder. "He's not one of ours."

"I know that, Leo." Don nodded. "But I can't help but feel responsible for him, since…" He trailed off, and Leonardo felt tension vibrate through his shoulders.

"Since I killed his father," he finished quietly. "Don, I'm sorry. I get why you feel obligated to set things right for this boy, and I agree with you. I just don't understand why you felt the need to compromise our family's safety by bringing him home."

Donatello's eyes seemed to burn into Leo's very soul.

"Leonardo." Don spoke slowly, as if to a very slow child. "Isamu is two years old. He is not a threat."

"But the Foot _are,_" insisted Leo. "What if they find out we've got one of theirs? Don, we can't afford to start a clan war."

"Do you really think they're going to come _after_ him?" Donatello was staring at him, incredulous. "Leo, they left him in an orphanage for two years! Karai doesn't even know he _exists._ He's not Foot, Leo. He's an innocent child and if you can't see that, then I guess Sierra's right and you _are_ the biggest shell-head ever to walk the earth."

Leonardo's eyes narrowed and he glared at his brother.

"_What_ did you say?"

"I said your wife thinks you're being a giant shell-head," snapped Donatello. "And I happen to agree with her."

Leo was about to respond when the faintest whisper of movement below caught his attention. Automatically, he backed into the deeper shadow close to the building, motioning for Don to do the same.

_Oh shell. _

Peering down through the metal grate, Leonardo could just make out the three dark shapes moving down the alley. They paused at the burnt-out building's door. To Leo's amazement, a darker silhouette appeared as the door swung open, and two of them disappeared inside.

"Foot, no doubt," hissed Don. He had taken a defensive crouch. "But what could they possibly want _here_?"

_And I thought you were my smart brother. They're looking for the kid, what else?_

"I'm going closer."

"Are you _crazy_, Don? We've got to get out of here…"

Donatello was already moving down the ladder to the next level. He glanced up.

"I'm not going to engage, Fearless. I just want to hear what they're saying."

"Donny…" Leonardo protested, but the purple-banded Turtle was already disappearing down the fire escape.

_Well, I can either hide out up here and wait to see what kind of trouble he gets into, or I can follow him. _

Leo shook his head. Neither option was particularly appealing. In the end, the elder brother in him won out. He made his silent way down the fire escape to stand just behind Donatello, who was kneeling on a lower level.

Two figures stood across the alley, below them, addressing a third. The third figure stood a hair straighter, holding his chin high, while the other two stood slightly bowed, in deference. Leonardo's eyes narrowed.

"_There is no sign of the child inside."_ The first Foot soldier spoke in careful Japanese. From his accent and inflection, Leo knew it was not his first language.

"_And he was not among those rescued. Masaru will be displeased."_ The superior's hands clenched at his sides in annoyance.

"_Masaru was too afraid to return to this place," _sneered the first speaker. "_His fire put our other operation in danger. It will be weeks before we can use the warehouse again. It's only a matter of time before Karai…" _

"_Silence, fool!" _The authoritative Foot soldier's hand shot out, cuffing his subordinate across the head.

Leonardo could almost see his glare through the mask's mesh eye-pieces. He reached automatically for his katana, but left it sheathed, knowing the sound of steel against leather as he drew it forth would only bring unwanted attention.

"_The very walls have ears. Do you want the Mistress to know you were speculating on her intentions?"_

The third Foot soldier spoke up. _Well, the child isn't here. What are we supposed to tell Masaru?"_ His tone was that of a whining subservient.

"_What does it matter? We'll tell him we couldn't find anything conclusive,"_ scoffed the first speaker.

"_He won't like that."_ A definite whine this time, sullen as well.

"_Silence, both of you."_

Leonardo shook his head. These were not high-ranking soldiers. He and Donatello could dispatch them quickly, but it would be no more challenging than swatting an annoying insect.

"_We've wasted enough time here. Vanish."_

Leo felt his brother quiver with suppressed laughter as the three made their way down the alley. To two fully-trained ninjas, they looked like kids wearing Halloween costumes. Their clumsy attempt to disappear into the shadows made Leo feel faintly ashamed.

_I hope nobody spots them and mistakes them for _real_ ninja…_

Leo glanced at his brother. Donatello was standing up, giving him a disgruntled look.

"He's still looking for the boy," said Don quietly. "Taking him back to April's is out of the question. We can't risk it."

Leonardo nodded, scowling. "We'll have to do something else."

Donatello's eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

"I don't know yet, Don. I just don't know."


	34. Chapter 33 Flying

**Chapter 33 ~**_**Flying~**_

Splinter ran through his third kata again, venting some of the frustration that had built in him. _Why are humans so cruel to one another? What kind of man would cause his own daughter such distress?_

He let out a _huff_ of annoyance as he threw the punch, and felt the slightest tremor falter through his muscles. Immediately he took his stance, preparing to repeat the maneuver. He paused, drawing in a deep, cleansing breath and letting it out slowly before beginning again, this time making certain to find his natural center before moving.

Still, tension hummed in the back of his mind, distracting him.

_Only a few days ago my sons were content. Now it seems discord fills our home. This boy… Leonardo blames him, but truly the child is not to blame for this situation. As is so often the case, the fault lies with the father. And Donatello and Beverly are at odds over Kouki's training. They think I do not hear them arguing late at night, but they forget how keen my hearing is. I fear for my grandson, but I cannot allow myself to come between them. It is a choice they will have to make as his parents. I only hope Donatello finds better fortune speaking with his brother than he has had with his wife._

_Leonardo, my son, you are sometimes the most stubborn of your brothers, even more so than Raphael. I know you wish to protect them, but this time I fear you have lost sight of who it is who needs your strength. _

The slightest sound at the door interrupted his thoughts, and he dropped out of his stance reluctantly, turning to see who had entered the dojo.

Sierra slipped in, her bare feet whispering on the tatami mats. Her gaze was on the floor, and the way her shoulders were hunched, tight with tension, Splinter knew she hadn't realized he was present. She was carrying a small cd player he recognized as one of Michelangelo's cast-offs. With Austin's blessing, Michelangelo had used a portion of his earnings to buy a larger, and louder, stereo system, but the smaller unit worked perfectly well. Splinter cleared his throat softly, and Sierra jumped, looking up wildly.

"Oh! Oh, Splinter… I didn't know you were in here. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you." She was backing toward the door even as she spoke.

"You have not disturbed me, _musume_," he answered. "Please, Sierra, come in."

"Oh, well I…" She hesitated. The way she rocked on the balls of her feet, her eyes flitting between the door and his face, reminded Splinter of the feral cats who roamed the alleys, suspicious, ready to flee at the slightest threat.

"Sierra. You came here for a reason," he said gently. "Please, do not allow my presence to interfere."

"I… I was just going to… to practice a little choreography," admitted Sierra, shifting uneasily.

"I would be honored if you would join me," answered Splinter. "Would I distract you if I remained to observe?"

"I… umm…" Sierra's eyes widened slightly. "You… want to watch me dance?"

"If it would be no trouble."

"I guess not." A small smile touched her lips. "It's been a long time, though. I can't promise a graceful performance."

"Seeing you do something you enjoy is enough."

He made his way to the bench his sons had installed in the dojo for observers, settling down while Sierra plugged in her music player and fiddled with the knobs. Soon the beginning strains of an instrumental piece came from the speakers. Splinter's ears swiveled with interest. He enjoyed classical music, and recognized the music Sierra had chosen. Vivaldi's Four Seasons gathered strength, as she knelt on the mat, easing herself to the floor to begin a familiar routine of stretching.

Splinter watched with approval. Leonardo's influence was clear in the positions she took as she moved through her warm up. Several of the forms she used to stretch and strengthen her muscles reminded Splinter strongly of katas his own son ran through in his morning routine.

By the time the lilting flutes of the second concerto began, Sierra rose to her feet, taking a moment to pause and find her center before moving into a series of movements so fluid, Splinter's breath caught in his chest. The woman moved in slow, deliberate motions, her body keeping a perfect rhythm with the gently-paced music. She twirled, spinning, before falling into a series of movements that made it look as though her body were swaying in a gentle breeze, giving Splinter the strong impression of a slender young sapling.

The next series of forms followed much the same movements, and Sierra's expression took on a focused concentration as her self-consciousness fell away and she lost herself in the dance. As the music picked up and a happy little series of flute and violin notes tripped along, her dance became more animated, a series of short steps and jumps giving the impression of simple, childlike joy.

She landed lightly, stretching one leg out and tucking her toe back to her knee again before taking the next series of skipping steps, which led her in a circle around the dojo, ending in the center once more, where she stretched up toward the ceiling like a flower reaching for the sun.

Splinter caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, but before he could move to intercept the boy, he darted into the room. Isamu skidded to a halt a few steps away, staring at Sierra as if mesmerized.

At first Splinter didn't think the woman was aware of the small intruder, but as he watched, Sierra turned, a smile playing over her face. She leaned down, as if the gesture were part of the dance itself, and held out her hands to him, inviting him to join her.

Isamu stared for a full ten seconds, before moving uncertainly toward the woman. She took a few slow, deliberate steps back, still holding out her hands to him. Isamu glanced at Splinter before coming timidly forward, reaching out to her. Sierra paused a moment, letting him almost touch her hands before sinking into another pose and lifting her hands once more toward the ceiling, inviting him with her eyes to follow.

Isamu stared for an instant longer, wary, before lifting his own hand in an imitation of her movement. Sierra's smile widened and she nodded her approval, standing and lifting her arms all the way, stretching up as if she could touch the ceiling with her fingertips. Isamu's face lit up and he stood on his wobbly toes, mimicking Sierra's movements.

She nodded again, and moved into a slower version of the spin Splinter had seen earlier, watching to be sure Isamu was keeping up with her. His giggle rang out as he spun in a circle, following her movements as closely as he could. Though his own efforts were clumsy, he was obviously enjoying himself.

Sierra gave him a grin and spun her way around him, circling like a graceful earth indulging in an orbit around its own moon. Isamu turned with her, his dark eyes tracking her every movement, the grin seeming wide enough to crack his thin cheeks.

Sierra broke out of her orbit to move around the dojo in the same prancing movements, inviting him to follow her. She was moving more slowly, but no less gracefully than before, allowing the little boy a chance to keep up. When they'd made the circuit once, she turned, pausing and kneeling down, holding out her arms again. Isamu hesitated for only an instant before rushing forward eagerly. Sierra scooped him up, cradling him close to her chest as she spun around the room. His startled cry dissolved into giggles. After a few spins, Sierra sank slowly to the mat, cradling the little boy on her lap. He reached up, patting her face.

"Again, See-ra! Again!" He giggled, tugging at her arm, as if he'd draw her back to her feet.

"In a moment, Isamu," she responded, laughing. "Let me catch my breath. You're a heavy little airplane."

"Isamu airplane!" He exclaimed, tugging at her arm again with a wide grin.

"Yes, Isamu. You're a fine airplane," replied Sierra. She hugged the child, and his arms went automatically around her neck. He leaned into her with a happy little sigh.

Splinter felt something tug at his own heart, and he swallowed against the warm lump that seemed to be forming in the back of his throat.

_The child brings such joy to Sierra-chan, and she to him. It's almost as if…_

"Sensei? Sensei are you in here?" Leonardo's voice carried from the doorway. He entered, scanning the room with what looked like anxiety.

"I am here, my son."

"Father. May I speak with you? I'm afraid we may have a problem…" Leonardo trailed off as he spotted his wife.

Sierra rose a bit stiffly, lifting Isamu with her. The boy still clung to her neck. He peeked a bit shyly at Leonardo.

"Isamu airplane," he whispered.

"What?" Leonardo frowned, looking confused and annoyed.

"We were dancing," responded Sierra with a touch of belligerence. "Thank you, Splinter, for letting me use the dojo. We'll just get out of your way now."

She gave Splinter a short bow. Grabbing up the CD player, she turned toward the door.

"Sierra, wait, I…" Leonardo held out a hand toward her, but Isamu cringed, whimpering, and pressed his face into Sierra's shoulder. She stepped back, shaking her head, and left the dojo without another word.

Leonardo stood, staring after her with such a stunned, hurt expression, that Splinter went to his son, laying a hand on his arm.

"My son. What is it you wished to speak to me about?"

"I…" Leonardo turned his gaze back to his father with a clear effort. "I'm sorry, Father. I hope they didn't disturb you."

Splinter repressed a sigh.

"My daughter was not disturbing me," he answered quietly. "Her dance brought much joy, to myself as well as the child. But you wished to speak with me. What is it, Leonardo?"

Leo gave his father a rather betrayed look. "It's about the boy. Donny and I went back to the place he and Mikey took him from, and…" Leo paused, taking a deep breath. "It was the Foot, Father. They were searching the rubble for a sign of his presence. They're looking for him. We've got to get him out of here, before he puts us in any more jeopardy."

Splinter shook his head firmly. "Leonardo, would you suggest that we return Austin to her father?"

"What? No, of course not!" Leo looked at the Rat, shock and horror etched into his features for a moment before his normal, carefully schooled expression dropped back into place.

"She is a danger to us, is she not?"

"Of course not, Father. Austin is our sister."

"Yet she once belonged to the Foot. And now her father seeks her as well."

"We will not allow her to be harmed."

"Leonardo." Splinter laid a firm hand on his son's shoulder. "No more can we allow this child to come to harm."

Leo blinked. A scowl set into his features, making him look, to Splinter, very young and petulant.

"He's not one of _ours_," muttered Leonardo.

Splinter nodded. "But he is our responsibility, my son," he answered quietly.

"I will see to it that Donatello returns him to the proper authorities," answered Leonardo, straightening.

"Leonardo." Splinter hadn't used the tone with his sons since they were very small, but now he didn't hesitate. "My son, it is too dangerous to return the boy to the surface. He will remain here until we can find a safe arrangement for him. To return him now, with the Foot searching for him would mean his death."

Leo froze, staring at his Sensei with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

Splinter simply waited. He rarely over-rode his son's decisions when it came to the leadership of the Clan, but there was no doubt he still had the right to do so.

Leonardo's expression hardened for an instant, but he nodded.

"As you wish, Father."

He gave a short, formal bow, before turning and stalking out of the dojo, fury clear in every silent step.

Splinter sighed. _My son. You must learn to give up your stubborn pride, or I fear you will find your path is a difficult one indeed._


	35. Chapter 34 Fight

**A/N: I did say it would get worse before it gets better... There is a method to my madness, promise.  
Meanwhile, a couple of announcements: The Stealthy Stories fic competition is underway. The nominees are posted! Go read the lists and be sure to vote. There are some truly awesome stories listed this year. Congrats to the nominees!  
**

**Also, one of the nominees, DuckiePray, has a current fic up that's an amazing read. (I should know, I beta'd it) lol  
Redemption is in full swing. If you haven't read it... All I can say is DO. If the cliffhangers don't give you a heart attack, the ending will melt you into a puddle of happy goo. :) **

**

* * *

****Chapter 34 ~_Fight_**~

The room was quiet as Sierra closed the bedroom door behind her. She'd finally managed to convince Isamu to go with Raphael to play with Kouki. She paused for a moment, looking around the room she shared with Leonardo. Even here his presence seemed to resonate, but instead of the calm peace she usually found in his unique scent that lay lightly on the air, she felt stifled. Giving herself a shake, she went over to the cage in the corner at the end of the bed. Opening the wire door, she reached in, allowing a small, silk-furred animal to scurry out across her hand and onto her arm. She smiled as a second sugar glider chirped at her before following her sister.

Ruth leapt, landing with a faint _thump_ in the center of the bed. Candy perched on Sierra's head, scrambling through her hair before coming to rest on the side, just above Sierra's ear, clinging. Finally, with another barking chirp, she launched herself onto the bed, landing a few feet away from Ruth who crabbed in irritation at being startled.

Sierra sank down on the end of the bed, watching the two jostle about for a moment. Ruth shot up the semi-circular wall, clinging to the brick as easily as if it were the bark of a tree. Candy made her way to the pillow, pausing there a moment before taking a running leap to the top of the desk nearby. Sierra laughed as the little marsupial skittered across the smooth surface, coming to rest with an indignant expression on a sheet of paper.

"Come on now, off Leo's desk," Sierra scolded gently. "If you mess up his writing he'll be annoyed."

Candy crabbed loudly, but allowed herself to be herded off the desk. Sierra paused a moment, lingering over the familiar handwriting. Leo'd been practicing his Japanese writing. The graceful strokes of his katakana matched everything else about him, controlled, smooth, deliberate. Sierra sighed and slid the paper into a drawer, out of harm's way.

Candy scrambled up the wall at the head of the bed, turning to launch herself into space, gliding to land lightly on the bed. Ruth did the same, landing on the floor. She turned and raced up the bedpost, climbing the blue comforter back onto the bed, and racing up the wall once more, only to launch herself back into space.

The pair repeated their circuit again and again, and Sierra felt herself beginning to relax, watching their antics. Finally she got up, holding her hands out to them.

"All right, you two. It's time you settled down," she told them.

Candy scrambled willingly into her hand. The older glider tired more easily than her younger counterpart, and she was more willing to return to the enclosure for her nightly treat of fresh fruit and honey. Ruth, however, seemed determined to elude capture. Sierra turned to the cage with a sigh, letting Candy rush off her palm. The greedy little animal stuck her head into the dish, lapping up the honey as fast as her tiny pink tongue could go.

Sierra heard the door slide open and closed again, and tensed, but ignored her husband's presence as she leaned over the bed, reaching up to Ruth.

"Come on, now," she coaxed, hoping to corral the glider so she could make her escape. She wasn't ready to talk to Leonardo. He'd been moody and distant since discovering Isamu's presence in the Lair, and although Sierra understood why, she wasn't feeling forgiving.

Ruth was having none of it. She launched off the wall again. Sierra lunged for her, throwing her momentum off. In the instant it took for the horrified realization that Ruth was heading directly for Leonardo's katanas, resting in their custom rack on the small display stand, to tear through Sierra's mind, a flash of green and caramel came between the small gray rocket and the razor-sharp swords.

Leonardo's dark eyes met Sierra's. He wasn't smiling. Wordlessly, he crossed the room, opening the cage and depositing the now-crabbing Ruth inside. Residual fear for her pet had Sierra shaking. She opened her mouth to thank her husband, but his sharp glance froze the words before they could reach her tongue.

In that look she saw a guardedness, accusation and frustration. The familiar fear and hurt cut into her, and she had to remind herself that Leonardo was not her first husband. Unlike Derek, he had never raised a hand to her, ever.

_I'm safe with Leo. He's not going to hit me,__ ever._ she told herself firmly. _Even if he is being an idiot about Isamu. _Leonardo's controlled strength was a source of deep, reassuring security to Sierra, but she'd found during their rare arguments, that it also had the power to revive old fears and memories. She'd been working to repress her instinctive responses, but she knew Leonardo often went out of his way to be gentle with her. In the past few days, he hadn't said much about Isamu, hadn't spoken about the emotions she could feel emanating from him like heat waves. Sierra knew he was trying to be patient, but she had the feeling of living with a volcano about to explode. _  
_

Taking a deep breath she forced herself to speak. "Thank you," she said. The words sounded stiff in her own ears, so she tried again. "For catching Ruth."

He simply nodded, moving toward the small chest of drawers next to the display stand. He pulled open a drawer, carefully laying the pads he normally wore for practice inside. Watching, Sierra realized he'd just come from the shower.

"Did you have a good run?" she asked.

He glanced at her. "Donny took me to the children's home," he said quietly. "The Foot were there. They're looking for the boy."

"Oh no." Sierra sank down onto the bed, feeling cold. "What are we going to do?"

Leonardo snorted. "Splinter says he's staying here until we can find someplace safe to put him," he replied, derision clear in his voice.

The tone was so like Derek's, tension ran through her like a wave.

"What would _you_ do? Put him out on the street?" she snapped.

"I'd take him to a _shelter_," responded Leo evenly. Sierra could hear the tightness in his voice that indicated he was keeping a tenuous hold on his temper.

"And what do you think would happen to him there? He'd be shuffled back into the system, lost in some already overcrowded foster care," she responded angrily, standing up and stalking across the room. "Of course, that's if the Foot don't find him. You know they're ruthless. They'd hunt him down. They won't stop until..."

"Exactly." The even edge was cracking. Leonardo's voice rose. "They _won't_ stop until they have what they want. Sierra, we can't afford to get into a clan war! You don't understand what they're like. They won't stop… they'll never stop!"

"I think I _do_ know what they're like, Leonardo," she shot back. "Or have you forgotten that I was Karai's _guest_?"

"Exactly! Do you think for one moment she'd hesitate to take one of _ours_ in return?" he shouted. "Do you think she'll stop at _anything_?"

Sierra's own temper snapped. "So what do you want to do? Do you want to turn an innocent little boy over to her to protect your family?"

"If that's what it takes," he shot back.

Sierra stood, staring at him, for a long moment, pain rising up in a boiling wave, swamping her. She took a deep breath, trying to stuff the hurt and anger back into its box, forcing herself to speak more calmly than she felt.

"You would sacrifice an innocent child to protect this family?" She shook her head. "That's not a kind of protection I want any part of." She turned, stalking toward the door, but a firm hand on her arm stopped her, spinning her sharply around to stare into furious dark eyes.

Instinctively, Sierra writhed, jerking free and throwing up an arm to shield her face from a blow. The emotions she'd been trying to hold back broke loose, pouncing like a wild thing, tearing into her, leaving her shaking and cold. She cringed as her arm was released, backing away.

_Dark eyes, glaring... the overpowering smell of whiskey..._

"Sierra… I…"

The soft, shocked voice didn't register with Sierra. She was lost in the memory.

_Fists, coming at her, crashing into her body… Haley's panicked cries… An empty-eyed demon, standing over a man, blood spreading across the floor…_

Sierra turned and ran from the room, unreasoning panic lending her speed. She hardly paused at the heavy stone door that guarded the entrance to the sewers, stopping only long enough to work the mechanism with shaking hands. She ran, blindly at first, driven by fear-fueled adrenaline. Even when her heart's pounding finally slowed so that she could hear other sounds, and a cramp clawed at her side, she didn't slow down.

It wasn't until she had traveled over a mile from the Lair and the stitch in her side had her doubling over, gasping for breath, that she finally came to a stop. Sinking against the cool brick wall, she tucked her knees up against her chest, hugging them, and rested her sweating forehead on her arms.

Sierra expected to cry, but nothing came. She felt empty, bereft, as if she'd run off and left behind a part of herself and she'd never be whole again. She'd felt much the same way the night her daughter, Haley, died.

It hadn't been until weeks later, long after the funeral, when her own injuries had healed enough to allow her to visit her child's grave, that she'd cried, great wracking sobs that threatened to tear her apart. When she'd finally stopped crying, curled up against the cold stone in the cemetery, she'd picked herself up, left the graveyard, and walked to the nearest bar. She'd spent the next week trying to drown herself in whiskey, before Gene and Marjory Spencer had found her and taken her to their home. It had been the beginning of her journey back to herself. Now it seemed as if she were beginning all over again.

_You did it once. You can do this again_, a small voice reminded her. _Musume, it is time to let happier memories of your daughter bring you joy_, another voice echoed in her memory. Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them with one hand.

_What will Splinter think of me? Running away like that… Oh Leo, I'm so sorry. _

Hot shame washed over her, making her shiver again. Sitting up, Sierra took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. _Ok, so Leo and I had a fight. It's not as if we've never argued before. It's just that I've never… run away before. Well, here I am. I know where I am, I think_. She glanced around. _Better get topside, so I can get my bearings. _

Moving carefully along the tunnel, Sierra soon came to a ladder leading up to a storm drain. Maneuvering the grating carefully aside with no small effort, she slipped out of the drain, quickly clamoring to her feet and glancing around.

_Ok, so I'm not _too_ far from April's. Too bad I didn't run in the _other_ direction, I'd be right near her store. It's kind of far to walk_. She glanced around a bit nervously. _I'm pretty close to the docks. Better get a cab._ Sierra started walking toward the nearest lights. As she drew closer, the pulsing beat of loud music met her ears.

A faint smile tugged at her lips as she recognized one of the very clubs she'd frequented during the dark time after Haley's death.

_How appropriate that I'd end up back here,_ she thought a shade bitterly. _ Well at least I can use the phone to call April and let her know I'm dropping in on her,_ she thought. _I hope she's still up. I know she sometimes works late on a project but it seems rude to just show up. _Gathering the remaining shreds of her courage, she opened the door and went inside.

"Hey, hey hot stuff!" A drunken man lurched over to her, leering. "Whatdaya say you an' me take a swing 'round the dance floor?"

"No thank you. I'm just here to use the phone," replied Sierra, stepping back to avoid his groping hand.

"Aww come on, baby… it's just a little dance," insisted the man. His watery blue eyes peered into her face as he attempted to focus.

"I said _no thanks,_" she said, as he reached for her again. Her hand came down on his wrist with a sharp jab, and he jerked back, rubbing his stinging wrist. By the time he gathered enough indignation to get angry, she'd slipped past him and was heading across the room toward the restrooms, where the pay phones were located.

Reaching her destination, Sierra reached into her jeans pocket, sending up a prayer of thanks that she'd changed out of her work out clothes back into her normal attire before blasting out of the Lair. To her intense dismay, she found no change, only a plastic debit card. She took a deep breath.

_Thank you, Lord, that I at least have my card,_ she breathed silently.

Turning away from the phone, she moved toward the end of the bar. A small ATM machine was tucked into a corner, an expensive convenience provided for patrons whose capacity proved larger than the cash they'd brought with them for the evening's revelries.

She slid the card into the slot and punched the relevant numbers, retrieving a twenty from her personal account, though she made a face at the size of the fee the machine informed her she'd be charged. Snatching the cash and the receipt, she turned toward the bar. The familiar scents of beer and whiskey greeted her like old friends, but she ignored the sudden craving.

"Can I get change for the phone?" she asked the man behind the bar.

"Sure, lady, no problem. Hey, don't I know you?"

She shook her head. She knew him, of course. He'd poured her shot after shot, patiently calling her a cab each night when her money'd run out or she'd finally passed out on the bar.

"I… used to come in here sometimes, but that was a long time ago," she said quietly.

The barkeep studied her for another long moment before snapping his fingers. "I remember now. You were Derek Johnson's wife." He scowled. "That guy was a creep. I'm real sorry about your little girl. How you been, anyway?" He punched a button on the register, popping the drawer open and counting out her change.

"I'm… remarried," said Sierra, forcing a smile. "To a very good man."

"Well ya look great." The man gave her a genuine smile. "Hey, how about a shot an' a beer for the road? On the house?"

For an instant, Sierra wavered. The familiar burn of alcohol would chase away some of the cold emptiness that had settled in the pit of her stomach. It would be so easy, so very easy, to take her place on the bar stool and forget her troubles for a little while, maybe even dance with some one on the crowded floor, letting the music pulse away the emotions that were warring in her. She shook her head.

"Thanks, but no. I quit drinking. Been dry over three years now."

"Good for you." The man nodded approvingly. "You go home to that good man, and take care of yourself, you hear? You were too good for that scumbag Derek. It's good to see ya doin' good fer yourself."

"It was good to see you too… Ben." The name came back from years of memory.

He smiled widely. "You were always a good kid. You take care of yourself, ok?"

"I will. Thanks for the change."

Dialing the familiar number, Sierra waited, biting her lip. _This is stupid. I should just go home. But I can't… not yet. I just can't._

Finally there was a click, and a somewhat sleepy "Hello?"

"April? It's Sierra."

"Sierra? What's wrong?" April's voice was suddenly wide-awake, in the manner of someone long accustomed to middle-of-the-night emergency calls.

"No, it's… it's just me, April." Sierra tried to steady her voice, but the tears forced their way out of her eyes, sliding down her cheeks. She leaned her forehead against the cool plastic of the payphone.

"Leo… Leo and I had a fight. Can I come to your place? Just for tonight?"

"Of course, Sierra, you know you're welcome here any time." April's concern came clearly down the wires. "Where are you?"

"At the Tower Club. Down by the bay," responded Sierra.

"You stay right there. I'll come pick you up."

"Thanks April."

Sierra hung up and started for the door. She'd gotten no more than a few steps when a heavy hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"I told you, I'm _not interested,_" snapped Sierra, spinning to ward off the drunk. To her shock, her assailant wasn't the drunken man, but Ben, the bartender. He released her, taking a step back.

"Whoa. Hey, relax. I just gotta tell ya, the bill ya gave me…" he was watching her with a piercing gaze. "It ain't no good."

"What do you mean? I just got it from the ATM!"

"It's a fake. I'm gonna hafta ask ya fer the money back," he said firmly. "I can't go takin' counterfeits."

"_Counterfeit_? Perfect." Sierra muttered. She dug into her pocket for the remaining money. "Sorry, it's short what I had to use in the phone."

He shook his head. "It's ok. By rights I should call the cops, but tell ya what, I'll call 'em and show 'em the bill an' I just won't mention your name, ok? For old time's sake."

Sierra just nodded. She turned toward the door, feeling numb.

"Any time you want a drink, you come on in," called the man. "Come see ol' Ben, anytime. I'll take care o' you."


	36. Chapter 35 Regrets

**Chapter 35 ~**_**Regrets~**_

_For goodnessakes, the way that boy talks to his father… __I don't know why Splinter puts up with him,_ thought Luci as she dipped the rag into the dishwater. She scrubbed the dinner plate carefully and set it in the sink. _I suppose, being the eldest, he thinks he has a right to do what he wants, but he seems a little big for his britches to me. If he were mine…_She shook her head a bit ruefully. _There you go again, Lucille Rose, sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. Splinter can handle his family. Now Austin needs me to handle ours. _

She rinsed the dish and set it in the rack to dry, rubbing her hands on a dishtowel. The small chore had given her something to do. The Lair was too quiet. Michelangelo was with Austin and Skylar now, and Lucille hesitated to intrude on their space. The others all seemed to have their own activities to attend to. Ann and Raphael had disappeared upstairs with the two boys, the huge white dog at their heels. Beverly had gone back to the hospital, Donatello was in his laboratory, and even Sierra had disappeared upstairs. After what sounded like a heated discussion with Leonardo, Splinter had retreated to his room.

_I should go back to the hotel,_ thought Luci absently. _I'm only intruding here. Austin has her family to take care of her, and they have their own troubles. They don't need me hanging around like a fifth wheel. _

The sound of shouting startled Lucille. Leonardo was coming down the metal staircase as she headed out into the main room. She saw the door to the sewers slide closed just as the Turtle reached the bottom of the stairs. He came out into the main room of the Lair looking around, anxious. Other figures rushed out onto the balcony. Raphael leaned out over the railing, scanning the room below before turning with a huff and heading back into the room he shared with Ann, shutting the door behind him with a _snap._

"Austin, wait…" Michelangelo's voice carried, but Austin was already heading down the stairs.

"Leonardo, what's going on?" asked Lucille, surging forward.

"Oh! Lucille. I… it's nothing." The Turtle glanced at her, uneasy embarrassment flickering across his face.

"Nothing? Leo, what did you _say_ to her? I saw her face when she ran by," snapped Austin, bearing down on the blue-banded Turtle.

"_Nothing_, Austin. Sierra and I had a bit of a… disagreement," said Leonardo coolly. "I've got it under control."

"It didn't _look _under control to me!" Austin was glaring at her brother in law, looking furious. "Sierra looked _terrified_. Leo, what'd you do?"

"I didn't do _anything_, Austin," growled Leonardo, glaring right back. "And it's really none of your business."

"If you've done something to hurt my _sister_, it _is_ my business," Austin responded. "You've been stomping around here like a child for the past two days…"

"Stand _down_ Austin," snapped Leonardo. "You're out of line."

Michelangelo landed on the floor several feet behind his brother with a _thump_. Lucille was startled to realize he'd just _flipped _down from the balcony.

"Step off, Bro," growled Michelangelo, grabbing Leo's arm and yanking him back. "It ain't Austin's fault you scared Sierra."

"I didn't _scare_ Sierra," snarled Leonardo.

"Well why else would she have run out of here like that?" asked Austin.

"We had a _disagreement,_" Leonardo seethed.

"Let me guess, Fearless, you told her we need to get rid of the kid," Michelangelo snorted. "Bet that went well."

Lucille watched the conversation as if it were a tennis match, shifting uncomfortably. She couldn't decide whether to retreat or simply head out into the sewers after Sierra.

"Hey!"

Lucille actually stepped back as Leonardo barked at his brother. He stepped closer to Michelangelo, poking him sharply in the plastron with a finger.

"None of this would've happened if _you_ and _Don_ had been honest with me from the _beginning_. Maybe instead of worrying about how _my_ wife and I deal with each other, you should consider being a little more responsible for your_ own_ family!"

"Now wait just one minute! Are you implying the abduction was Michelangelo's fault?" Austin's hazel eyes snapped with fury.

Leonardo drew himself up straight. "Since he and Donatello were out on an unauthorized mission, putting themselves in danger instead of attending to his duty to his _family... _yes."

The word hung in the air, ugly, accusing.

"Then it was my fault too. I knew where they were going." Austin's voice was quiet and suddenly calm in the silence. "You might as well say it was my fault my daughter was kidnapped. My fault the family was put into danger retrieving us. You know what? Next time, don't bother."

She turned and stalked up stairs without so much as a glance back at the stunned Turtle.

Michelangelo shook his head. "You know, Fearless, sometimes you can be a real jerk." He followed his wife.

Leonardo stood, watching them retreat, poleaxed. "I… didn't mean it like that," he muttered.

Lucille cleared her throat, stepping forward. "I'm afraid in this case, Leonardo, I have to agree with your brother," she told him coolly.

"What?" His dark eyes narrowed as he turned to face her.

Luci stood her ground, refusing to be intimidated.

"You heard me. The way you spoke to Austin just now was incredibly insensitive. She told me she looks up to you as a big brother, the respected leader of your family. As of right now, I can't for the life of me figure out why." Lucille watched as his mouth opened and closed. "If you're looking for Sierra, I believe she went out." She nodded toward the door to the sewers. "I heard the door."

"You heard… I…" Leonardo half-turned.

"I wouldn't go after her just yet," advised Lucille quietly. "If you've had an argument, she'll need time to calm down."

"She was upset." His voice was suddenly so soft, Lucille wasn't certain whether he was even speaking to her. "She's confused. The way she looked at me…"

"Leonardo, what did you say to Sierra exactly?" Lucille went to him and reached out, laying a hand on his arm. He turned to look at her, the hard, proud expression returning.

"Judging by the way you responded to Michelangelo and Austin just now, I'd guess it wasn't a calm discussion. Sierra seems like a very sensible girl, Leonardo," said Lucille. "But you look…"

She stopped, cocking her head and looking at him critically. "Well, to be perfectly honest, you look a bit lost and I think you could use a cup of tea. Why don't you come into the kitchen and I'll fix a fresh brew?"

"I should…" he looked toward the door again.

"Not yet," said Lucille firmly. "Unless you're afraid she'll get lost or be attacked in the tunnels. Sometimes the best thing to do is give her a bit of space."

To Lucille's surprise, Leonardo nodded and let her lead him into the kitchen. He took a seat, resting his elbows on the table and laying his hands down as if he weren't quite sure what to do with them, and stared at the scarred tabletop.

Luci put the water on to heat and filled a small metal ball with tealeaves, setting it in the cracked teapot. She took her time, letting the silence slip into the room, calming, easing the tension. When the preparations were finished, she took a seat across from Leonardo. Still, she waited, letting the faint tick of the clock behind him on the wall take up the silence alone. Ten minutes. Twenty. Finally, Lucille drew a slow, calming breath.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked.

He raised his eyes to give her the beginnings of an ironic look.

"Do I have a choice?"

Lucille smiled. "Leonardo, I don't mean to move in here like the Gestapo and try to tell you how to do things," she told him. "It's not my place to interfere with your family."

One eyeridge rose and a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, but he didn't comment.

Luci tried a smile. "Well, when you take on my niece, you get me as part of the package. What you said to her was uncalled for. Especially since she was right. You have to admit, Leonardo, you've been pretty pig headed about Isamu."

The Turtle flinched at the name, his shoulders hunching. He looked away.

"You don't understand."

"You're right," she told him crisply. "I don't. I don't understand how a two-year-old child poses a threat to your family. I don't understand why you were being so disrespectful to your father earlier. I don't understand how you can treat your brothers so coldly, when it's obvious Donatello did what he felt he had to do to protect an innocent life. And I don't understand why you would risk alienating that lovely young wife of yours."

Leonardo sat back in his chair, staring at her as if she'd sprouted spots.

"Are you finished?" he asked, his voice arctic.

"I am," Lucille answered quietly. "And if you'd like me to leave now, I'll understand."

He stared at her, silent. When steam rose from the pot on the stove, Luci rose, moving to pour the water over the tealeaves.

"I'm leaving tonight anyway," she told him, forcing her voice into a casual tone she didn't feel. "Going back to the hotel. I've intruded upon Austin's family long enough."

"I don't want you to leave."

Lucille came back to the table, setting two steaming cups down. Leonardo wrapped his hands around his as if to warm his fingers against the ceramic.

"I… I apologize. For saying you don't understand. It's clear you do. Better than I have." His voice sounded strained, as if he were forcing the words forth. "Please, don't leave." He paused, drawing a deep breath before looking up to meet her gaze. "Austin needs all the support she can get right now."

"I'm not the one you should be apologizing to, Leonardo."

He flinched again, but squared his shoulders, nodding. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that to Mike… to Austin. I've got to talk to them. But first, I have to find Sierra…" He jerked as something buzzed at his side.

Lucille watched, interested, as he pulled a small, turtle-shell shaped object from his belt, sliding the parts open.

_That looks like the cell phone Austin was using_, she thought.

"April?" Leonardo's brow creased as he listened to the person on the line. "She did? Is she ok? Are you sure? I'll be right over…"

Leonardo started to stand up. He paused, listening, and Lucille saw him slump in the chair. "I… I understand, April. Can you… can you at least tell her… tell her I… tell her I said I'm sorry." He drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Thanks, April."

Clicking the phone closed, Leonardo tucked it back into his belt and laid his hands back on the table, looking more lost than ever.

"She called our friend April." his voice was strained. "She's… staying there tonight."

"So she's safe," Lucille remarked, nodding.

"Yes."

They sat in silence long enough that Lucille's tea was growing cold. Leonardo shifted, uneasy, but didn't drink his tea.

"Would you tell me what happened, Leonardo?"

The Turtle looked at her, wary. "What do you mean?"

"Well to begin with, why are you so threatened by a two year old boy?" Sierra watched his brown eyes go dark behind the mask. Finally he looked up.

"How much has Austin told you?" he asked.

Lucille shook her head. "Begin at the beginning."

"I…" He closed his eyes. "The boy is an orphan because… because two years ago, I… I killed his father."

She waited, hiding her shock.

After a moment, Leonardo continued. "I… I didn't know the boy existed until all the night Austin and Skylar were taken. Then Don… Don turns around and brings him _here._" Leonardo made a frustrated gesture with his hands.

"So he's a reminder of something you regret?" asked Luci.

"He's _Foot_," said Leonardo.

"You hate him because he's the son of your enemies?"

"I didn't say I hated him!"

"You certainly haven't embraced him with open arms," responded Lucille calmly, getting up to pour a fresh cup of tea. "Leonardo, is it possible you feel threatened by the boy, not because of who he is, but because of what he reminds you of?"

"I… I don't know." Leonardo shook his head. "Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, Ms. Chesney, but… I think I'm going to go to bed now."

He stood up, setting his cup into the sink.

"Good night, Leonardo," said Lucille quietly.


	37. Chapter 36 Partnership

**A/N: The italicized dialogue means the characters are conversing in Japanese.**

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**Chapter 36 ~**_**Partnership~**_

Karai frowned, re-reading the report that had landed on her desk that morning.

_How could such a mistake have occurred? Those responsible will answer for their incompetence._ She sat back in the enormous chair. _No matter. I will have Masaru send a team to remove the ATM from that night club, and if necessary remove the bartender who was so foolish as to report the bill to the police. A death might raise suspicion, though. Perhaps a small gift of cash will serve to sufficiently alter his memory. Hmm. He spotted our new bills, when my experts assure me that even the banks will not be able to detect them. Perhaps he may be of further use to me alive than dead._

She reached over, pushing a button on the intercom with a carefully manicured finger.

"_Masaru. To my office." _Karai spoke in clipped Japanese. She didn't bother with a "please". Nor did she acknowledge the man's presence when the huge crimson door opened smoothly, and her second-in-command approached to kneel respectfully before her.

"_My lady,_ _you requested my presence?_"

To his credit, Masaru's voice didn't so much as waver in the presence of his often-homicidal employer.

Karai paused, taking a long moment to look over the report one more time, before raising icy green eyes. She looked over her second-in-command critically. A slight frown marred her brow.

_Perhaps I have been giving Masaru too many responsibilities recently. He looks… ragged._

"_What is the status of our operation on the East side?" _she asked calmly, giving nothing away.

"_There was a minor setback last night, Mistress. A bartender reported a bill. A team has been dispatched to retrieve the ATM's contents before the authorities can make a full investigation. They await your orders concerning the fool who owns the club."_

"_Bring him to me. Alive._"

"_Yes, Mistress."_

Karai waved her hand, dismissing the man. He bowed deeply, backing out of the room. She sighed as the door closed behind him. Good help was becoming harder to come by, and Masaru had recently been acting strangely.

_I suppose I will have to consider a replacement,_ she thought. _Pity. _

"Karai!"

The familiar, hated voice boomed, echoing even through the heavy doors. She didn't so much as stir from the chair, though her hand was on the katana she kept strapped to the bottom of her desk in case of a surprise attack, or for convenience in delivering an immediate punishment to a Foot soldier foolish enough to incur her wrath.

"Karai!" Hun shouted again. The doors flung open, and a mountain of a man stormed into the room. He shook his head like an annoyed bull, and Karai was nearly startled into laughter when she saw a nunchuck swing drunkenly. It had become tangled in the stringy braid that hung down his back, a testament to the doomed guards who'd tried to stop his march into her private quarters. Hun snatched at the offending weapon, flinging it aside.

The woman behind the desk allowed the faintest spark of humor to raise one eyebrow. Hun saw and glared.

"What is it that you want here, Hun?" she asked icily, noting the entrance of the Foot Elite into the room behind him. Hun was about to receive a beating he'd never forget, if he survived, but she was willing to hear him out first, based on his past service to the Shredder and her own curiosity.

"They've gone too far this time. Attacking me personally! It's one thing when they blow up a warehouse, but this…" Hun paced in front of the desk, still agitated. "You've got to help me, Karai. We've got to team up. We'll take them down _hard_ this time!"

A ham-sized fist crashed down on Karai's desktop, cracking it in half. Karai jumped back with an exclamation of disgust. She'd _liked_ that desk. The Elite wasted no time. In an instant, two of them had Hun by the arms, pinning him to the floor, while a third planted a boot firmly on the back of his neck.

"Shall we finish him, Mistress?" asked the fourth casually, his naginata blade hovering a scant inch from Hun's neck.

"Not yet," replied Karai cooly. _They were too slow,_ she thought. _The fools. He could've as easily attacked _me_. I will spar with them _personally_ tomorrow and remind them how to do their jobs._

"Why have you come here, Hun?"

The man twitched, his desire to throw off the Elite warring with his fondness for keeping his head firmly attached to his over-sized torso.

"I came to ask for _help_," he spat. "To offer a partnership in ridding ourselves once and for all of those green _freaks_."

Karai considered, silent. Her patience was rewarded by another squirm from Hun. He lifted his head far enough for the blade to brush his hair, severing a few strands. He glared malevolently.

"They attacked me," he admitted in a growl. "In my own office! Broke right in and jumped me, unprovoked. Michelangelo's lost his _mind_."

"Michelangelo? The young one?" Karai cocked an eyebrow.

"He's crazy, I'm telling you! The others had to hold him back! He has his brother's sword…" Hun's voice rose with outrage.

Karai listened to the disjointed tale calmly, never revealing the thoughts that were racing through her head.

_It is not like the Turtles to attack unprovoked._

"What makes you think I wish your assistance in ridding the city of these pests?" she asked in a bored tone.

"You _need_ me, Karai," Hun growled. He jerked in the Elite's grip, managing to pull one of them off balance, though he couldn't quite get free.

_Sloppy stance,_ thought Karai, irritated.

"Neither of us can defeat them alone," Hun was saying. "But together… with the _combined_ strength of my Purple Dragons and those black-pajama'd fools you command, we could rid this city once and for all of the Turtles."

_Fool! The Turtles provide ample distraction for the media, diverting attention from my own operations with their "vigilante phantom" stories. Yet… with the current setbacks, they could prove… troublesome. Hun's plan to launch an all out attack on the Turtles could keep them busy while my newest enterprise has time to become more firmly established. I can use this fool._

"Very well." She made an unmistakable gesture, but the Elite guard stood for an instant, dumbfounded. Karai's eyes narrowed, and the soldier hastily removed his blade from Hun's neck, looking very much as if someone had taken away a promised treat.

Karai barely restrained herself from smirking.

_No doubt your blade will taste his blood another day,_ she thought. _But for now, I have use of him._

"You have the use of my Foot soldiers," she told Hun imperiously. She made another gesture, signaling to the sulking Elite to fetch Masaru. She saw him shift slightly, pressing the call button embedded in his waistband.

It took only a few heartbeats for Masaru's familiar footsteps to approach. Karai's controlled façade didn't allow for her to express the satisfaction at seeing him appear so quickly and silently. He walked boldly into the room in a manner he hadn't dared to use when she summoned him privately. The show of power and confidence was for Hun's benefit.

"How may I serve you, Mistress?" he intoned in perfect English, not sparing Hun so much as a glance.

"You will organize a team to lead this fool and his followers out into the city."

She carefully ignored Hun's squawk of indignation.

"Very well, Mistress. What is our mission?" Masaru asked, unflinching.

"You will hunt down and destroy the Turtles," replied Karai. For an instant she saw a flicker of… _something_ in his eyes, but it was gone just as quickly as it had appeared.

"It will be my great pleasure, Mistress." This time there was no doubt of the malice as he made his deep bow.

_Hmmmm. _

Karai nodded to the Elite, who promptly took Hun by his meaty arms, escorting him firmly out of her presence despite his rumbling protests.

_It would seem that my second-in-command knows, perhaps, a bit more than he should about the Turtles' attack on Hun. He shows no surprise, but is very eager to carry out this foolish excuse for a mission._

"You will take a contingent of our weakest fighters," she told Masaru. "Gather anyone considered… expendable. I will not waste valuable resources on Hun's foolish plans."

"How am I to fight the creatures with only the weakest of our ranks?" demanded Masaru. At the last possible instant he remembered to add a polite "Mistress."

Karai scowled.

_I am afraid, old friend, that you have been crossing too many lines lately. I fear your usefulness is coming to a swift end. _

"A worthy captain leads even the smallest ship into battle," she told him coldly. "My intention is not to destroy the Turtles, though if you are able, you may kill any or all of their clan. I simply wish to keep them… occupied."

Masaru nodded grudgingly, but Karai could see the resentment seething in his eyes. The four Elite guards filed back into the room, their errand finished.

"You object to this plan?" Karai's tone dared Masaru to speak freely.

She watched him struggle with himself. Finally the man nodded sharply, as if coming to a decision.

"We should _crush_ the Turtles, Mistress. Our clan has put up with this blight for far too long. They have interfered with your plans, they disrespect you and us. They have been a thorn in the Foot's side for long enough. Allow me the honor of ridding you of this nuisance, Mistress. Allow me to take our best, our strongest…" He gestured toward the Elite, not seeming to notice the way her eyes narrowed in anger at his presumption. "Allow me to destroy the Turtles, their wives, their brats, the Rat, all of them! We could be rid of them forever, Mistress!"

"You do not understand what you are saying," said Karai coldly. "I have my reasons for allowing the Turtles to live."

"But Mistress, they destroyed your father!" Frustration drove the words from Masaru's mouth, but even he could see he'd gone too far. He knelt immediately under Karai's withering glare, bowing his head. "Forgive me, Mistress. In my desire to serve your best interests, I spoke rashly."

"Only your long service spares you," answered Karai.

She turned, stalking a few paces away. The Elite stood at attention, awaiting her next order.

"Go, Masaru, before my mercy wears thin."

The man rose smoothly, bowing his way out of the room, but she could see the resentment in the set of his shoulders and the stiffness in his steps.

_Too bad, really. I have been rather fond of him. Perhaps the Turtles will save me the trouble of killing him. _

She looked up, waving a hand at the Elite.

"_Don't just stand there,_" she told them in clipped Japanese. "_Clear up this mess._"

They moved efficiently to obey, their emotions well hidden as ever.

Karai sighed. She'd _liked_ that desk.

_But like Masaru, _she thought._ It is replaceable._


	38. Chapter 37 Escort

**A/N: Must be a full moon... or something. DuckiePray's Redemption was updated today, too. If you don't get enough insanity from this little adventure, go read that. I dare you. :-p**

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**Chapter 37 ~_Escort~_**

"Honestly, Leonardo, this isn't necessary. I'm perfectly capable of visiting my sister without an escort."

Raphael listened to the steel in the woman's voice and smirked. Lucille was proving to have a mind of her own, one that readily bucked Leonardo's particular brand of protectiveness.

"I'm sure you are, Miss Chesney," said Leo evenly. "But the warehouse is in a rather rough area of town. I'd really feel better if you'd let me accompany you, at least until you reach the hospital."

"And _I'd_ feel better if you'd stop treating me as if I'm a helpless old lady," returned Luci, glaring. She had her purse already in her hands, her thin jacket over her arm.

_Shell, if she's helpless, I'm a human,_ thought Raph, watching. He leaned against one of the stone pillars, stifling a snort at the frustration clear in Leonardo's expression and the furious glare from Lucille.

_Fearless just needs ta learn when ta back off. He oughta know that stubborn look by now. He gets it often enough from Austin.  
_

"I don't intend to imply that you can't take care of yourself, but until we're sure of what Austin's father is up to, it's really not safe…"

Lucille blew out a frustrated snort. "I've known Rin for over twenty years. He doesn't frighten me."

"The men he hired are part of a gang," responded Leo. "They're ruthless…"

"I'm going. Good bye, Leonardo."

With that, Lucille turned and stalked toward the heavy stone doors that led up to the warehouse.

Leonardo made a frustrated gesture, almost as if he'd draw her back physically, but he just stood, watching her go.

"I'll go after 'er, Fearless," said Raph, taking pity on his brother.

"What?" Leo turned to face him, his eyes narrowing in suspicion.

Raphael shook his head, pushing down the irritation that normally would've led him to fight with Leo. "Listen, I agree wit' ya. She shouldn't go topside alone, not until we know what's goin' on wit' Austin's father. An' I don't wanna see anyt'in happen to 'er. So I'll go up, follow 'er, make sure she gets ta da hospital ok. If dat's al_right_ wit' you?" he couldn't help adding.

Leonardo's glance flickered toward the stairs.

"Austin's still pretty upset with me. I don't want to fight with Lucille, but if I let anything happen to her, Austin'll never forgive me," he said quietly.

"Fearless, ya apologized. Ya can't do more than that. Mikey accepted an' Austin'll fergive ya, too. Give 'er some time. Meanwhile, I'll keep an eye on Aunt Luci fer ya, ok?"

Leonardo nodded slowly. "Ok, Raph. Thanks."

Raphael nodded, noticing the way Leo's shoulders slumped. The elder Turtle rubbed a hand over his face. Suddenly he looked… weary.

"It's gonna work out, Bro," said Raphael, grasping his shoulder briefly. "We're a family. We're gonna figure dis out."

"I hope so, Raph," answered Leo without looking up.

Raphael squeezed his shoulder, and turned away, shaking his head. He wasted no time in pulling on his "topside" disguise, a hoodie and loose pair of sweatpants that fit easily over his shell. He'd modified the pockets, cutting them so that he could draw his sai from his belt unhindered, providing an element of rather nasty surprise for any street thugs who thought he looked like an easy target.

He headed out into the tunnels, taking a more elaborate and secret route to the surface. Still, Lucille had only gone a couple blocks from the warehouse when he caught sight of her.

By staying in the late-evening shadows, Raphael was able to conceal himself well enough so Luci never knew he was following her. When she got a cab, he headed to the rooftops, making his way leisurely across the city toward the hospital, knowing she was secure enough in her yellow transport. He watched her go inside, and positioned himself comfortably on a rooftop across the street where he could watch the comings and goings through the front doors.

Raphael didn't have to wait long before Lucille came out of the hospital, looking extremely agitated.

_What da shell? Is she… cryin'?_

Raph watched as the woman wandered down the sidewalk, roughly in the direction of the warehouse.

_Where's she goin'?_

Making a decision, he took a running leap, clearing the gap to the next building easily. In this manner, he got several blocks ahead of Lucille, before making his way silently down a fire escape in a quieter alley. He waited until she was nearly to the alley before stepping out a few feet in front of her.

She continued walking, and would've run straight into him if he hadn't turned aside to allow her to pass.

"Ms. Chesney."

She turned, startled, taking an alarmed step back away from him. Raphael smiled grimly. Not wanting her to scream, he held up a hand. "Hey, take it easy. It's jus' me."

"_Raphael_?" Lucille stopped backing up. Her eyes were reddened and her cheeks wet. A stray tear slipped down her face. She didn't seem to notice. "What are you doing here?"

"Keepin' ya from gettin' mugged. What's da matter?"

"I… It's… Rin." She shook her head. "He moved more quickly than I expected. They… they wouldn't let me see her."

The tears came faster now, streaming down her cheeks, but she made no move to wipe them away.

"She's my _sister._ We've never been apart, not since we were little girls."

Raphael shifted uncomfortably, his hand tightening instinctively on his sai. The pain and helpless frustration in the woman's face made him want to _hit_ something. Preferably Austin's father.

"Bev an' Ann'll fix dis. Why don'tcha come back down ta da Lair? We can sort dis out."

Lucille shook her head. "I… I think I should go back to the hotel," she said. "I shouldn't impose on your family."

"Ya ain't imposin'," he said.

"All the same, I will go to the hotel." Lucille straightened, drawing herself up.

The gesture was so smooth, so natural, Raph wondered just how many times this woman had stared tragedy and grief in the eye and dared it to devour her, staring it down like a wild beast. Suddenly he found that he liked Lucille Chesney very much.

"Can I at least walk ya ta yer hotel?" he asked.

She gave him a calculating look, as if she were sizing up his reason for asking. Raphael simply waited. He would either walk beside her or watch from the rooftops as she found her way back, but he would at least allow her the dignity of choosing his presence, or not, for herself. He saw the thoughts ticking over in her eyes and realized with a shock that she knew exactly what he was thinking.

_Shell, _thought Raph, just managing to keep his smirk under control. _She ain't even known us dat long. Dis chick's sharp. _

"All right. I'd like that. As long as you think it's safe?" Lucille studied his disguise critically.

"I'm a ninja," said Raph. "Don't worry."

"All right." Lucille gave him a genuine smile. He was startled, but not displeased when she hooked one hand around his elbow.

"You do seem to manage," remarked Luci with amusement as several New Yorkers passed them, oblivious.

"Da trick is ta look as if ya belong," Raphael told her confidently. "Most people don't bother takin' a good look at each other. They see what they expect ta see."

"Well you and your family are certainly unexpected," mused Lucille. "Beverly caught me leaving. She said she'd help me sneak up to see Janey later, after normal visiting hours, but of course I told her not to be silly. She can't risk her job for us."

"Bev'll do what's right," said Raphael firmly. "She'll make sure dat scumbag don't get his hands on yer sister."

"Why? Why should she risk herself?" Lucille glanced at him, searching.

Raphael shook his head. "Well if ya don't want 'er help, jus' say so," he said gruffly.

"I'm sorry, Raphael, I don't mean to sound ungrateful," said Lucille shaking her head. "It's just… you hardly know Janey and me. I understand how fond you all are of Austin, and I'm grateful, Raphael, but Janey… we're not your family's problem. I don't want to make things complicated for you."

He shot her a sharp look.

"Please understand. I appreciate what your family is doing, Ann and Beverly's help, so very much. It's just…" She paused, as if searching for the right words. "Austin… you are her family now. She… relies on you all. I don't want any of you to put yourselves at risk for our sakes. Austin needs you. Stay safe, and take care of her."

"Don' worry about us. We can take care o' ourselves."

"I suppose I'll have to trust in that," said Lucille, half to herself.

"Aww, ain't dat sweet. Da _freak_ got 'imself a girlfriend."

The rough voice was soft, close, though Raphael didn't see the source right away. He pulled Lucille behind him out of pure instinct, drawing his sai out through the pocket-holes in his hoodie.

Three men stepped out of the alley, blocking their path. The first had scraggly blond hair and sported a gap-toothed grin. He held a length of pipe in his hand, tapping it threateningly against his palm. The second favored a baseball bat. Raph's eyes narrowed.

He looked familiar, with a jagged scar down one cheek that might've been a past souvenir from Raphael's sai. The third stood a little taller than the other two. He had another length of pipe. His piercing blue eyes reminded Raph of Michelangelo, except where Mikey's eyes sparkled with good humor, this man's were cold and dead with the long habit of hatred.

"Guess we're gonna collect the reward, huh boys?" growled the one in the middle.

"Looks that way," answered the blond.

"Da only reward yer gonna get is bein' allowed ta walk away from dis in one piece, if ya leave right now," growled Raphael, spinning his sai on his wrist.

"I don't think so, _freak,_ shot back the blue-eyed man, his grin widening. Raphael heard Luci gasp behind him, and turned in time to see a black-clad soldier shoving her aside. Three more of the Foot emerged from the shadows of the alley.

Raphael considered his options.

_Da Foot an' da PD's hate each other almost as much as they hate us,_ he mused. _If I can get 'em fightin' each other, maybe I can grab Luci an' get outta dis._

"Looks like it's yer lucky night," he taunted the Purple Dragons. "Yer friends came out ta play."

"It _is_ our lucky night," answered the blond, his grin widening. "There's a bounty on your shell, and we're about to collect!" With that, he attacked, swinging the pipe in a clumsy arc, which Raph dodged easily. The kick to his shell was harder to avoid, but it did him no real harm, only threw him a bit off balance. He whirled to face the new opponent and found himself facing off with two of the Foot. They crowded close, seeming to want to drive him toward the PD's.

"_You are ours, Turtle,"_ hissed one in Japanese.

"Man, I'm Mr. Popularity tonight, ain't I?" growled Raphael. He saw the woman coming, but it was too late to shout a warning. Lucille's expression was set in determination as she swung her heavy purse at the back of the man's head.

Had she tried the maneuver on one of the gang members, it might've worked, but the Foot, though they were not as skilled as the Turtles, were still ninja. The black-clad soldier turned smoothly, catching the woman on the cheek with a quick palm-strike. She dropped to the sidewalk with a dull _thump_.

"Yer gonna pay fer dat," growled Raph, the familiar burn of rage tinged by anxiety for the woman who lay quite still on the sidewalk.

The man was prepared for Raph's attack, but not his feint. Raph followed up with a round-house kick that sent the man flying back into the wall with a satisfying _crack_.

It was as if someone had flipped a switch. All of them, Foot and Purple Dragons alike, attacked at once. Raphael dodged a pipe and the baseball bat. A bo staff struck his arm just above the elbow, and he caught it with his sai in his opposite hand, wrenching it away from the wielder and following through with a kick. Ignoring the throbbing numbness that indicated damage to his left arm, Raph struck out, taking out two more of the soldiers. He was about to scoop Lucille, who was beginning to stir and moan, up, and disappear into the night, when the sound of footsteps running had him turning. Another group of youths were rushing toward the fray.

At the same time, some sixth sense made him glance into the alley. Movement in the shadows drew his gaze toward the fire escape, where black shadows were dropping down to the pavement, silent, but far more dangerous than the noisy gang members.

_What da shell, they're like cockroaches,_ he thought. _Squash one an' more come ta da party._

He reached through the pocket to his belt, finding his phone. He had just enough time to push a button before the double surge was upon him. With the first two strikes, Raphael realized the Foot weren't fooling around. He was fighting for his life.

_Hurry up guys,_ he thought. _Annie'll have my shell if they kill me out here._


	39. Chapter 38 Choice

**Chapter 38 ~**_**Choice~**_

_In order to defeat one's opponent, one must first be aware of one's own strengths and weaknesses…_

Leonardo closed the book with a sigh of frustration. The wisdom that usually drew him in seemed to wash irritatingly over his consciousness like white noise. He stood up, striding across the room to glare at the books stacked neatly on the shelf above his desk. He selected another with a faint sigh and sat down on the edge of the bed, opening it to where he'd left off reading last. The wisp of ribbon Sierra'd handed him when he needed something to mark his place slipped out, floating to the floor. Leo picked it up, fingering the silken scrap for a moment before laying it aside. He settled back to read, frowning over the unfamiliar exhortations.

"_A gentle answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.  
The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouth of a fool gushes folly.  
The eyes of the LORD are everywhere, keeping watch on the wicked and the good.  
The tongue that brings healing is a tree of life, but a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit.  
A fool spurns his father's discipline, but whoever heeds correction shows prudence."*_

Leonardo dropped the book as if he'd been stung, and cursed under his breath as it fell to the floor, the delicate pages bending under the spine. He picked it up more carefully, snatching up the ribbon from the bed and tucking it hastily back, closing the book gently.

_Sierra'll be mad if I ruin her Bible._ The thought only brought the pain spiking back, and he dropped the book on the bed in frustration. _This is no good. I can't read, can't meditate... can't _focus. A gentle awareness nudged at the edge of his mind, seeking entry, but he ignored it. _I need to _do_ something. I wonder if Ann has any ideas about Austin's mother._

Having something to do relieved a little of his tension, but he approached his red-masked brother's room with some trepidation. Ann had been cool to him since Sierra had run out, and he wasn't entirely certain the woman would be welcoming. He tapped lightly on the door, and stepped back.

Ann opened the door, peering out at him. Leonardo stiffened. Behind her, the human boy was sitting on a cot, staring down at a picture book in his lap.

"Yes, Leo?" Ann was watching him, a faint frown creasing her brow.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Ann," said Leonardo. He cleared his throat, deliberately avoiding looking at the child by meeting Ann's gaze squarely. "I wondered if you'd been able to find anything out about Mrs. Abramson."

Ann shook her head. "Not yet. I've put in a few calls, but it's going to take time."

"All right. Keep updated, will you?"

"Sure, no problem."

"Thanks Ann."

"Hey." She stepped out, pulling the door partly closed behind her. "How are _you_ doing?"

"I'm fine."

He didn't mean for his voice to come out so stiff. It was just that years of leading the Clan, years of his father's brand of stoic discipline, had not made him open to sharing his feelings, to talking things out. He was the Leader, the one with the plans. Until Sierra, he hadn't known what it was to express his deeper emotions readily.

"Leo. You're not fine." Ann regarded him critically, and he stood just a bit straighter.

"I have to be," he told her quietly.

"That's such crap and you know it. Leonardo, you're the head of this family, but you're not alone. You and your brothers are a _team_."

Leo snorted. _If I'm the head of the family, why is that kid still here?_

"You don't believe it?" Her brown eyes sparked dangerously. "Do you really think you're on your own? Do you think your brothers aren't capable…"

He held up his hand to stop the tirade before she could get going.

"I don't believe I'm leading. At least… not very well." The admission was painful.

Ann nodded. "You're right. These past couple of days, I think you've lost sight of a few things, Leo. Maybe you need to take a step back and really consider things. Isamu's just a little boy."

Leo stifled his angry reply with an effort, and forced his voice into calm reason. "Ann, he's _Foot._ If Karai finds out he's here…"

The woman's eyes flashed. "Leo, _listen _to yourself."

She turned, shoving the door open and pointing to the little boy, who was still sitting on the cot with the book. At the sudden movement he flinched, scrambling back instinctively. When he saw Leo, he froze, watching him with wide-eyed uncertainty.

"Do you really think Karai is going to come after him? Do you really think this helpless child is any threat to us? _Look_ at him, Leo."

Leonardo's gaze was drawn to the child almost against his will. The boy returned his look with wary silence, watching him with dark, intelligent eyes. Leo was sharply reminded of Sierra's expression as she backed away from him, just before she fled the Lair.

The boy moved, lifting the book. "Isamu read," he said cautiously. His dark eyes flickered to Ann, as if seeking reassurance. "Ann read?"

"I'll read the book to you in a moment, ok, Isamu?" Ann forced a smile.

The little boy nodded eagerly, and Leo saw him smile for the first time. He glanced back at Leo, holding out the book.

"Ann read book!" he announced.

"That's… that's great… um… Isamu. Yes, Ann will read you the book." Leo mumbled.

"You see, Leonardo?" said Ann quietly. "He's an innocent. All he wants is for someone to read him a book. Someone to take care of him. Doesn't he deserve that much?"

"He doesn't _belong_ here, Ann," argued Leo.

"No, I suppose he doesn't."

The sadness in her voice made him want to shout, to shake her, to _make_ her see his point. The frustration was like an electric shock, goading him. Leonardo took a deep breath and turned away.

"You'd better go… read. I've got to talk to Don."

She nodded, moving to close the door. Leo caught one last glimpse of the boy as he looked up at Ann.

"Ann read!" he declared.

Leo turned away, shaking his head. It wasn't that he didn't feel compassion for the child. There was just something about the boy's presence that irritated him, like sand under his shell. Stifling a sigh, he headed downstairs.

_Maybe Don's been able to find out more about that warehouse. _The thought cheered him slightly. Normally he'd never go looking for a reason to attack Karai, but any excuse to focus on something beside the child making himself at home in his brother's room was welcome.

He tapped lightly at the doorframe and waited for Don's "come in" before entering his brother's space. Donatello was leaned back on his computer chair, with his ankle resting on the opposite knee, cradling a book against his thigh. He barely glanced up as Leonardo came in.

"Hey, Don. I just wondered if you were able to find out any more about that warehouse." Leo forced a casual tone.

Donatello didn't bother to look up. "I'm running a search now," he said, gesturing toward the computer with one hand. Figures were flashing across the screen at an impressive rate.

"What are you searching?" Leo watched the flickering screen.

"Cross referencing Karai's legal businesses with the property tax records, and searching for any record of how the building was used in the past. If I can find something, it might give us a clue to what she's doing there now."

"Great."

"It might not help much," said Don. "We may need to do some more hands-on investigating."

"I know. But these searches of yours usually turn up something useful." He tried a small smile, but Don didn't respond, just went back to his book.

Leo suppressed a sigh. "Donny… I wanted to tell you, I'm sorry for losing my temper this morning."

Donatello looked up, studying Leo as if he were a bug under a microscope. He closed the book, holding his place with a finger.

"But you still think we should dump Isamu off at the police station or someplace, let the humans deal with him." It wasn't a question.

"I'm just trying to protect our family."

"Dishonor," muttered Donatello.

"What?" Leo's eyes narrowed.

"You've chosen dishonor, Leo."

Before Leonardo could respond, Don opened his book and read aloud.

"'_You have been given the choice between war and dishonor. You have chosen dishonor, and you will have war!_'" He looked up, his chocolate brown eyes cold.

Leonardo stared at his brother. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Winston Churchill said it to the English Parliament when they refused to respond to Nazi Germany's invasion of Czechoslovakia. He felt they should've stood up against the invaders, thought sticking their heads in the sand and declaring it wasn't their problem was wrong, dishonorable and dangerous. He said they couldn't avoid fighting. He was right. England entered the war less than a year later."

Understanding dawned. "Donny…"

"I know you're trying to keep us safe. I _know._ Don stood up, laying the book on the desk. He came forward, reaching out to grasp Leo's shoulder, ignoring the way his brother stiffened. "But this time you're wrong. Leo, can't you _see_ what you're doing? You're projecting your feelings about his father onto Isamu. Can't you see how wrong that is? You can't blame him for what his father did."

"I don't!" Leonardo turned away from his brother's searching gaze. "I don't _blame_ him, Donny, I just…" he made a frustrated gesture with his hands. "He's _human_. He doesn't _belong _here."

"Sierra's human," said Donatello softly. "And Bev and Ann and Austin. Leo, what if Skylar and Kouki had been born human? Would you feel the same way?"

"That's not the same and you know it."

"I'm not suggesting we raise him ourselves, Leonardo, but I think we owe him protection. If Karai wants him dead, how long do you think he'll last in foster care?" asked Don quietly.

"It's not just the boy." Leo turned to face his brother. "Donny, you and Mike put yourselves at risk. What if you'd been caught? What if you'd been _seen_?" The fear and anger that had been clawing at him made his voice rise. "You could've been hurt, and we wouldn't have known where you were or what happened!"

"Is that what this is all about?" Donatello cocked his head, studying his brother. Leo scowled. The bug-under-a-microscope feeling was back. "You were worried about us?"

"I'm your brother. And the leader of this clan." Leo heard his own voice rising again and stopped, drawing a deep breath and letting it out slowly, deliberately releasing some of the emotion. "Donny. It's my _job_ to worry."

Donatello laughed, shaking his head. "Ok, Bro. Tell you what. Next time we'll invite you and Raph along too, ok?"

"We're a _team_, Donny. We've got to stick together."

Don's mirth faded. "You're right. I should've been honest with you from the beginning. No more protecting you from yourself, I promise. But you've got to work on listening to the rest of us, too, ok? Leo, we're not fifteen anymore. And now we have the girls to consider too. You can't treat us like a bunch of kids who need you to lead us and protect us from danger, you know?"

Leonardo nodded. _He gets it. And I guess he has a valid point, too. _ "I know, Donny. I guess… I've been kind of a shell-head these last couple days, huh?

Donatello snorted. "You think?"

"I… I've got to go talk to Sierra," said Leo softly. "I really screwed this up, didn't I?"

"She loves you, Bro."

"She _ran_ from me, Don. You… you didn't see the look on her face." The tightness that had been hovering in Leo's throat constricted, making it difficult for him to draw a deep breath.

"Leo, you know Sierra's been through a lot. Whatever triggered her panic attack had nothing to do with you. You need to talk to her. Leo, you know she was right, you _were_ being a shell head, but she loves you. You guys will work this out."

Leonardo was about to respond when the peace was shattered by a flashing strobe and a blaring siren. He crouched, instinctively reaching for his katana.

"What the _shell, _Don?"

"It's the alarm!" Donatello's fingers flew across the keys of his laptop. The figures on the screen disappeared, replaced by a map with a flashing red dot. "It's Raph, he's activated the emergency button on his shell-cell. He's at the corner of… Main and 28th. Come on, we've got to get there _now._"

Leonardo was already half-way out the door, calling for Michelangelo. Their brother was in trouble. Everything else would have to wait.

* * *

*Proverbs 15: 1-5 NIV


	40. Chapter 39 Reconciliation

**Chapter 39 ~_Reconciliation_**~

Michelangelo had been working on a new spread for his next project. Jane Greeves, the Art Director at Green Tree Books, the company that had picked up his last picture book, had asked him to do a few drawings "on spec" for a new author's project. He was excited about the book. The author's writing style left wide vistas of imagery open to Mikey's interpretation, and he'd been having a lot of fun drawing the quirky characters.

The alarm blaring chased the images of aliens frolicking amongst soaring blue tree trunks straight out of his mind as reality crashed in around him. He was on his feet in an instant, grabbing his nunchucks and heading for the door. Irritation at the interruption was overridden by worry. The alarm meant only one thing- one of his brothers was in trouble.

"It's Raph, it's got to be," said Austin. "Don's been in the lab all day and I heard Leo arguing with Aunt Luci. He sent Raph to keep an eye on her."

Austin had been lounging on the bed with a book. Beside her, Skylar lifted her head to blink sleepily at her father. He pressed a quick kiss to his wife's forehead, and another against his daughter's cheek.

"Don't worry, Babe. We'll sort it out," he said, tucking his 'chucks into his belt.

"Wait, I'm going with you," said Austin, scrambling up. She reached for her sneakers.

"Not this time," said Mikey, heading for the door.

Austin was on her feet in an instant, grabbing his arm. "He went with Aunt Luci, Mike. I've _got_ to go. What if something's happened to them?" Her eyes were huge and pleading.

Michelangelo paused, turning to catch her shoulders in his hands. She felt so delicate, so slender, even though he knew she was stronger than most humans and able to handle herself in a fight.

"Austin, I can't argue now. I've gotta go get Raph. Please… Please, stay here. I'll get them, I _promise._ Please, keep Skylar safe."

"Ann can…"

"I know. But if Raph's in trouble, she needs you here right now, and I need _you_ to be safe too. Please, Austin." He heard the desperation he'd felt when she was missing slip into his voice, making it crack slightly. "I can't lose you again."

Austin hesitated only an instant. "There's no time to argue. Go."

To Mike's relief, the emotion in her expression was resignation rather than fury.

"Love you, Babe." He gave her a quick squeeze.

"I love you too. Be safe."

Mike nodded and headed out the door.

Leonardo and Donatello were already halfway to the entryway, moving fast. Mikey joined his brothers, the urgency of the mission driving the lingering worry from his mind. He felt alive, going out like this, applying his training.

"Where is he, Donny?" he asked.

"Looks like he's not far from the hospital. Phoenix and 3rd. Head west," replied Don, looking down at his tracker without slowing down. The brothers raced through the tunnels, sure of their direction in the darkness.

"This is it. Let's get topside," called Leo, pointing. He led the way up the metal ladder, shoving the manhole cover aside and disappearing into the shadows above. Michelangelo and Donatello were close behind.

Raph's battle-cry and clash of metal on metal lent wings to the brothers' feet. They flew toward the alley, with little thought for stealth. Michelangelo had an instant to consider the scene before throwing himself into the fray with his brothers. Raphael was surrounded. Mikey heard a deep grunt when he struck an unwary Foot soldier who ventured too close.

_He's getting tired,_ thought Mikey. _Not that he can't handle himself, but wow there are a lot of these guys. Well, bro, let the Battle Nexus Champion help even the odds a little._

Michelangelo leapt into a group of black-clad soldiers, whirling like an orange-and-green top, his nunchucks spinning so fast they buzzed like angry bees. Leonardo's swords flashed, making a loud _clang_ as they met the blade of two more Foot who spun to face the new threat. Donatello's bo lashed out with a grim fury.

Mikey was enjoying himself. The black-clad forces seemed worn down from Raphael's attacks. Those closest, who'd been attacking him, went down easily, almost as if relieved to be excused from further battle. They were quickly replaced by fresh soldiers. Michelangelo noticed with a shock that not all the newcomers wore the signature black of the Foot Clan.

"Hey, Donny, looks like some of these goons forgot to do their laundry," he called over his shoulder.

"They're PD's," yelled Raph over the _clang_ and _thud_ of battle. "Mikey, ya chuckle-head."

Michelangelo chuckled as he snap-kicked a PD. The man flew backward, taking out two of the Foot who were running up to assist in the attack.

"Good. I like a little variety," Mike replied, grinning as another warrior approached, cautious. "Come on, bring it," he taunted.

He saw the figure coming up behind the Foot ninja, but kept his focus on the warrior closest to him.

_That's it, one at a time. Easier to take you down that way…_

To Michelangelo's shock, the person sneaking up behind the ninja swung what looked like a heavy bag, clunking him solidly on the back of the head. Mikey laughed out loud as the ninja staggered, but his laughter turned to horror as he saw who'd attacked the ninja.

_Aunt Luci!_

Mikey jumped instinctively, placing himself squarely between the woman and the Foot ninja who now spun, intent on taking revenge for the blow. He watched the Foot stagger back as he realized he was attacking a more formidable warrior than the middle-aged lady who'd bashed him. Mikey's nunchucks whistled before he could recover, and he dropped like a bag of rocks.

"You ok, Mrs. Chesney?" he asked over his shoulder, warding off two bolder PD's who filled the gap the Foot soldier had left.

"I've… told you to call me… Luci," she responded, swinging her bag again when one of the men tried to dodge around Mikey's right side while he was occupied with a PD to his left. She caught him squarely in the face, startling the man so that he fell back a pace, giving Mike time to knock him out with a quick punch.

_Shell, I've gotta get her out of here,_ he thought. _Before this gets _really_ ugly. _

"Leo!"

He saw his brother's eyes dart his way, taking in the woman's presence in a glance. Leonardo gave him a sharp nod to indicate he understood.

"Raph, Don," he barked. "We're out."

Michelangelo knew, from long teamwork with his brothers, what to do. He edged backward, closing the space between himself and Lucille, at the same time noting the distance to the fire escape to his left.

"Aunt Luci," he said without turning away from the opponents who crowded closer. "We're gonna get out of here, ok? Just hang on." A chain-wielding man with greasy blond hair smirked, obviously thinking Mike was weakening. Michelangelo relieved him of his misconception with a well-placed kick that threw him back into his companions, giving Mikey a temporarily cleared space.

"Time to go," he said, turning to Luci who was now directly behind him. "Hold on tight, ok?"

"Hold on to what? Michelangeloooooooooooo!" Lucille's voice went high as Mikey spun, scooping her up and slinging her over his shoulder.

"Sorry!"

He made the short leap to the bottom of the fire escape's ladder and climbed, one handed, as fast as he could. Once they reached the roof, he set the woman on her feet. She stared at him with huge brown eyes, her mouth still in an 'o' of shock, but she'd stopped screaming.

"Quick, climb up on my back. Put your arms around my neck and hold on," said Mikey quickly. The position change wasted precious time, but he knew it would not only be more comfortable for his passenger, but with both hands free he could move far more quickly down the next fire escape. Lucille hesitated for only an instant before wrapping her arms firmly around his shoulders. She used her knees to grip the sides of his shell as best she could. "You got it, Dudette?"

"I think so."

"Ok. Hang on!" Michelangelo made the short leap to the next building, but though he felt Luci's breathing hitch, she didn't scream. He landed lightly and sprinted for the edge. He felt the woman's grip tighten, but this time, instead of jumping, he dropped down onto the fire escape platform. Mikey wasted no time, scaling the outside of the metal structure rather than climbing down the ladder. No PDs or Foot appeared with triumphant cries to pounce as he landed in the alley, so Mikey set Lucille down as gently as he could.

"Come on. We've gotta get below ground before they figure out where we went." He lifted the manhole cover and gave her what he hoped was a cheerful grin. "Ladies first."

Lucille gave him a bleak look, but disappeared with speed down the ladder. He heard her soft shoes land on the concrete floor below and breathed a short sigh of relief before following her.

_We're outta here,_ he thought, dropping down through the hole himself and lifting the heavy metal disk into place. _See, Austin, I told you I'd get her back safe for you. I just hope the others got away too. _

"Mrs. Chesney? Umm, Aunt Luci?"

"I'm here." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Did we lose them?"

"We sure did, but we can't stay here. Come on, we've got to meet the others, then we'll head back to the Lair. Austin's real worried about you."

"You… left them. Back there."

"What? Who'd I leave?"

"Your brothers. You left them, to rescue me."

Her voice sounded shaken, shocked. Mikey shook his head, then remembered she couldn't see him in the dim tunnel. He moved toward the sound of her voice and took her arm gently. He heard her gasp and she jerked in his grip, but didn't pull away.

"Nah, they can handle themselves," he said. "We do this sort of stuff all the time. Rescuing people, I mean." Lucille was trembling. "Hey, are you ok? You're not, like, goin' into shock or something are you?"

"I'm all right, thanks to you," she replied. She drew a deep, shaky breath. "You… you came. To help us."

"Of course. You're family. Raph's my bro. He'd have done the same for me."

He felt her shudder.

"Come on. You don't wanna hang out around here," he said. In truth, Mike was anxious to get moving. He wanted to see his brothers with his own eyes, to be sure they'd all escaped unhurt. His bravado was for Luci's sake. He knew how easily one of them could be badly injured in a battle.

"Yes. We should go… meet the others." Her voice was shaken, but sounded stronger. "Do you know the way back from here?" she asked.

"Of course. I grew up down here," boasted Mikey. They began walking along the tunnel. He felt her hand resting against his shell so she wouldn't be left behind in the dark. "You were awesome, by the way, smacking that guy with your bag," said Mikey, grinning at the memory.

"Thank you. I'm afraid I wasn't much help to your brother. One of them hit me from behind quite early on. When I woke up, Raphael was fighting… driving them back, away from me. He's… frightening."

"That's my bro," said Michelangelo cheerfully. "Don't worry though. He don't bite, usually."

"I'll keep that in mind," she responded dryly.

"How come you didn't run away when they first attacked?" Michelangelo frowned. "You could've really gotten hurt."

"I couldn't just leave him," answered Lucille, sounding indignant. "He was fighting for his life. I'm no fighter, but I couldn't just leave him. I had to _try_."

_Shell, just like Austin,_ thought Mikey. _Except Austin's a kick-butt ninja with the moves to back it up._

"I suppose I was more a hindrance to Raphael than a help," said Lucille. "If I'd had the sense to run, he might have been able to escape."

Michelangelo shook his head. "Nah, there were too many. They would've just chased you down. Actually, it's pretty cool that you tried to fight 'em. Really brave, ya know?"

"Thank you, Michelangelo. I appreciate that," she said quietly. "Where are we going?"

"We're almost there," said Mike cheerfully. "We've gotta meet Leo an' my bros at the south junction. It's not much further."

They walked along for a few more blocks in silence before Mikey's shell-cell buzzed at his hip, the sweetest sound he'd ever heard. He snatched it, flipping it open.

"Leo! Where the shell are you, Dude? Are you guys ok?"

"We're fine, Mikey. Raph's a little banged up, but we're all here. Do you have Ms. Chesney? Are you both ok?"

"I got her, Dude. We're good. You wanna meet us back at the Lair? That's closer and I'm sure nobody followed us."

"Sounds good, Mike. See you at home."

"Awesome."

"Hey, Mike?"

"Yeah, Leo?"

"Good job tonight."

"Thanks, Fearless. You too." Michelangelo grinned, flipping the cell closed again and tucking it into his belt.

_He's _such_ a big brother,_ he thought with more affection than irritation. _Still thinks I need pats on the shell. Well, it is nice to hear how great I am now and then. _

Lucille's breathing was becoming ragged, and Mikey realized she was pushing herself to keep up. He stopped, turning to the woman.

"Why don't you go on ahead," she suggested before he could speak. "You can get there a lot faster if I'm not slowing you down."

"I'm not leaving you alone," he responded, shocked. "Austin'd kill me."

"I'll be fine. Maybe you can show me to a way back above ground. I'll get a taxi back to the hotel."

Michelangelo shook his head. "I can't let you go topside alone, Dudette. The PD's an' Foot are all over the city."

"I don't want to trouble your family any further," she replied uncertainly.

Michelangelo moved closer to the woman and touched her arm to let her know where he was in the dark. "If you lean on me, it'll be easier," he said.

She jerked away, and Mikey was startled to feel tension ripple through her. She stood up a bit straighter, moving away from his support.

"I'll be fine," she said again.

"Mrs. Chesney," he started, then stopped. _What the shell is wrong? She seemed fine a minute ago. Maybe the shock's wearing off?_ "Aunt Luci," he tried again. "If you wanna go topside, you're gonna have to come back to the Lair first. Austin's worried sick. She wanted to come with us, but I wouldn't let her. She needs to see you're safe, ok? Then one of the girls can take you back to the hotel or wherever you wanna go."

"Are you sure you want me to come back with you?" asked Lucille. "Michelangelo, you weren't exactly welcoming when I first met you. Maybe it'd be best if I just went back to the hotel as I planned."

Mikey was stunned. "You want to leave because of me?" He remembered, suddenly, the fear in the woman's eyes when he'd threatened her, on that awful night when Austin was missing. _Shell… she thinks I still don't like her._

"Aww, Dudette…" He fidgeted. "Austin'll have my shell if you don't come back with me. I promised her." He tried his best puppy-eyes. He could see Lucille in the dim light filtering down through a sewer grate they were approaching. She was looking at him with a mixture of amusement and apprehension.

"I don't want to cause any more trouble," she said.

"Listen, when Austin an' Skylar went missin', I was…" He shook his head. "I was scared outta my mind, ya know? I didn't mean to accuse you… I mean, I was scared and… well I said some stuff I didn't mean, stuff I shouldn't have said. Will you forgive me?" He looked into her eyes steadily as he delivered the apology. Splinter'd taught him that sincerity was conveyed through the eyes.

Lucille searched his face for a long moment. He saw some of the trembling tension go out of her.

"All right," she said softly. "We were both scared the night Austin went missing. I was afraid I'd never see her again. I never did get to thank you properly, for saving her."

Michelangelo shrugged. "She's my wife."

"You love her, don't you?"

"Of course."

Lucille nodded once, and moved to his side, grasping his forearm.

"If you'll let me lean on you a bit, I think I can move more quickly," she said.

"No problem," replied Mike, his grin returning. "Let's go home."


	41. Chapter 40 Courage

**Chapter 40 ~**_**Courage~**_

Sierra shifted in her seat, uncomfortable. She'd rarely spent much time with Casey, though she'd been married to Leonardo for over a year. The man still made her slightly uncomfortable. He was loud and gruff and crude, but he was also a good friend to her brother in law and a loyal ally to her family. At the moment, he was lounging in a recliner, watching the news.

"Purple Dragon scum," he muttered as reports of a break in downtown flashed across the screen. He took a long pull of his soda, crumpling the can one-handed, before glancing at Sierra. "Can I get ya somet'in, babe?" he asked. "Uh, a can o' pop or somet'in?"

Sierra shook her head. "I'm fine, thanks." She managed a smile. He reminded her of Raphael.

_And I'm not afraid of Raphael… not any more_. _Casey's a friend._

"So, Sierra." April sauntered into the room, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. Sierra'd offered to help with the supper dishes, but April refused, insisting she was a guest. "I thought we'd watch a movie. Any title you'd like to see?"

"Umm, I'm not sure what's out just now," said Sierra.

"How about dat 'Date Night'?" suggested Casey. April shot him a look. "What? What'd I say now?"

"Real sensitive, Jones," muttered April.

Sierra giggled. "It's ok, April…" She didn't get to finish the thought before a familiar tone rang out.

April reached into her pocket and drew out a shell-shaped phone. She glanced at the screen.

"I'll just… take this in the kitchen."

"It's ok, April. I know it's Leonardo calling," said Sierra quietly. "You can tell him I'll come home in the morning."

"I'll do that."

April gave her a reassuring smile, but she still headed into the kitchen as she answered. She was gone less than a minute.

"Sierra, he needs to talk to you," she said quietly, holding out the cell phone.

Sierra shook her head. "I'd rather not…"

"Raphael was attacked tonight. He's ok, but Leo needs to know that you're all right," said April, placing the phone firmly in the younger woman's hands.

"Hello?" Sierra's momentary hesitation dissolved. "Are you all right?" She knew perfectly well that if Raphael had been in a fight, his brothers wouldn't have been far behind him.

"We're all fine," said Leo, his voice washing over her senses. Unconsciously, she drew her knees up, hugging them. "I just wanted to make sure… I mean…" He faltered, trailing off, sounding as uncertain as Sierra'd ever heard.

"Leo, I'm fine," she said firmly. "What happened?"

"He was attacked escorting Lucille back to her hotel," said Leonardo. "By a group of Foot and Purple Dragons."

"He was attacked _twice?_"

"No, they were working together."

The strain in Leo's voice made up her mind. _He needs me there with him. _"I'm coming home."

"You… don't have to." His voice sounded strained with worry.

"It's ok. I'll be there as soon as I can."

"Sierra, wait."

"What?" She froze, half-standing, dread rising in her. _Doesn't he want me to come home?_

"Get Casey to go with you. I don't want you going out unescorted. It's too dangerous."

"Leo, I'll be fine…"

"Sierra. Please. For my sake."

"Ok."

She closed the phone pensively. It was unlike Leonardo to sound so… uncertain. The attack had obviously left him unsettled.

She straightened and glanced at April, who was watching her with wide green eyes.

"I have to go home. Raphael was attacked by a group of Foot and Purple Dragons working together," she said. "He's all right, they all are, but I should go home. Leo asked… Casey, if you wouldn't mind…" She swallowed. The tall man was already on his feet, his hands balled into fists.

"Dem scumbags attacked Raph?" he asked, scowling. "Jus' let me get my gear. I'll take care o' dem Purple Dragon scum."

"Casey, wait," April interjected. "Sierra, what happened, exactly? Did I hear you say they were working _together_ with the Foot?"

"Yes. I know it sounds crazy but that's what Leo said. He asked if Casey could bring me home. He says it's not safe for me to be out alone."

"O' course," said Casey quickly. "I ain't gonna let nobody near ya. Not dem Foot guys, an' not dem PD's."

"I… you don't have to," faltered Sierra. "I could just take the tunnel from the corner of South and Bleeker…"

"Nuh-uh," replied Casey firmly. "Leo asked me ta see ya home, an' I'm gonna see ya home. Don't you worry, Sierra. Yer safe wit' me."

"I…" Sierra hesitated. "Thank you," she said faintly. She turned to April, who approached, enveloping her in a tight hug. "Thank you for everything, April," she said quickly. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"Any time, Sierra," replied the older woman, releasing her. "Don't worry, Casey will get you back home safely. Tell the guys if they need anything, they know where to find us, ok?"

"I will. Thanks again." Sierra nodded.

"Ok, if yer ready, we'll get goin," said Casey. "See ya, Ape." He gave the woman a one-armed hug. April wound her arms around his neck, drawing him in for a kiss. Sierra looked away, slightly embarrassed, but not before she saw the way his tense stance softened, reminding her once again of her hot-tempered brother and his wife.

"Come home safe to me, Casey Jones," murmured April.

"Always do, Babe."

Casey let go of his wife and headed for the door. Sierra followed, careful to keep several paces between her and the tall man.

They descended the stairs in silence. Casey glanced over his shoulder, as if making sure Sierra was still with him as they reached the lower floor. He paused for a moment, his hand on the doorknob.

"Ya gotta stick close to me, ok?" he said seriously. "I ain't gonna let nothin' happen to ya."

"I appreciate it, Casey," said Sierra.

He nodded once, and pushed the door open.

They stepped out into the alley. Casey peered around before motioning to Sierra to follow. He glanced over his shoulder again before starting down the alley toward the sidewalk, where he paused again, peering into the evening shadows.

"We'll take dat tunnel at 5th and Bleeker," he said without turning around. "It's secluded, less chance o' bein' spotted."

"Ok."

Casey moved with the grace of a cat, a slight surprise to Sierra. She was careful to keep track of their surroundings as she followed him down the street toward 5th Avenue. Casey glanced over his shoulder again, a faint scowl creasing his brow.

"Sierra, what're ya doin' way back there? Ya gotta keep up. Am I goin' too fast fer ya?"

"No, sorry."

He stopped. "Come on." He held out a hand to her.

"Sorry," she muttered again, hurrying to catch up with him. His hand brushed her arm, and she shivered, flinching away.

Casey's eyebrows rose. "Sierra, I ain't da one ya gotta be scared of," he said seriously.

Sierra felt a blush rising in her cheeks. "I know. Casey, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It was good of you and April to let me stay."

"Don' worry abou' it," he answered gruffly, moving forward.

Sierra had no choice but to follow. She stayed silent until they reached the manhole cover. Casey glanced around quickly before lifting the heavy metal disc and gesturing for her to climb down. Sierra wasted no time in scrambling down the ladder. She stepped aside, making room as she saw his shadow fall over the opening. Casey climbed half-way down the ladder before sliding the cover back into place. He dropped to the tunnel floor with a faint _thump_.

Sierra resisted the urge to step back. Casey glanced at her. She could see the set of his face in the dim light filtering through the holes in the man-hole cover above.

"C'mon," he muttered. "I'll jus' walk ya ta da Lair."

"Thanks," she said softly.

Casey shook his head and didn't bother answering.

Sierra took a deep breath, striding forward to catch up with him before he'd gone more than a few steps.

"Casey, wait." She reached out a bit timidly, touching his forearm.

He paused, turning to stare at her as if she'd lost her mind. His arm was hard with tension under her fingers.

"Listen," she paused, considering what to say. "I'm sorry. I really don't mean to… well to act like…"

"Like you're scared o' me?"

Sierra almost laughed. "I'm sorry, Casey, I really am. It's just… well to be perfectly honest you remind me a little of my ex. You look a bit like him."

His face drew together as he scowled. "I ain't not'in like dat scumbag!"

"I know." She squeezed his arm and drew a slow, deep breath. "I'm sorry. You really are nothing at _all_ like Derek. I know that."

"Den why…"

"For the same reason I freaked out on Leo," said Sierra quietly. "Sometimes… I can't help the way I react. I'm trying, I really am. Will you forgive me? I know you're a good guy, Casey Jones. April is a lucky woman."

"Aw. Yeah, Sis, yer alright wit' me."

Sierra gasped as she found herself enveloped in a muscular hug. Casey let her go almost immediately. His teeth flashed in the dim light, and Sierra couldn't help smiling back. They walked the rest of the way in a companionable silence.

At the entry to the Lair, Casey hesitated.

"Hey, Sierra, I uh… Well, I jus' wanted ta say… Leo, ya know, he's… he's a lucky guy. Too."

He reached up and pulled the pipe, releasing the door, before Sierra could answer. She smiled as he disappeared inside.

"Hey! Hey Raph! Where are ya, ya bone-head?" called Casey. "I brought yer brother's wife home!"

"Aw shuddup ya loudmouth!" Raphael's answering yell echoed off the walls. "Can't ya see I'm wounded here?"

Sierra rushed into the Lair, concern for her brother-in-law overshadowing her nerves. To her great relief, Raphael strode out of the lab, obviously not badly injured. He had a bandage on his thigh and one arm was tightly wrapped, but otherwise he seemed unhurt.

_He's tough,_ she thought with a flood of relief. _He'll be ok. I hope no one else was injured. I guess he wouldn't be joking around with Casey if they were though._

She took a few more steps into the main room. She _felt_ Leonardo's presence before she spotted him, sitting on the couch. He was aware of her, she knew by the set of his shoulders and the slight tension that rippled through them. He half-turned as if he'd look at her, but didn't quite meet her eyes. A pang of longing rippled through her and she moved toward him almost as if drawn.

"Leo, I…" Before she could complete the thought, a small dark-haired head popped up from the back of the couch.

"Sie-ra! Isamu book! Le-nardo read!" Sierra couldn't help but grin at the happy little boy's greeting. "Book, Sie-ra!" he insisted.

She came around the end of the couch to see Isamu scrambling into Leonardo's lap, a dog-eared copy of _Curious George_ in his hands. _The Gollywhopper Egg_ lay on the table.

Sierra laughed. "You're reading?" she asked.

Leo looked up, finally meeting her gaze.

"Ann needed to help Donny tend Raph, and Mike has that spread to finish... Someone needed to entertain him. We read _The Gollywhopper Egg_ three times," he said, his voice soft. "Now he wants the monkey book."

"That one's Mikey's favorite," said Sierra softly, sinking down beside her husband on the couch.

"Sie-ra read!" demanded Isamu.

Sierra took the book, opening it to the first page.

"This is George. He was a good little monkey, and always very curious. This morning, George and the man with the yellow hat were at the train station…"

"George!" Isamu pointed, looking expectantly up at Leo.

"That's George," confirmed Leonardo, nodding.

"Hat!" Isamu pointed again.

"He has a hat," Leo agreed solemnly.

Sierra stifled a giggle. She noticed Leonardo's hand resting protectively against the boy's shoulders, and the way Isamu leaned against his plastron, obviously content in the Turtle's company.

_You see, Leo? He's just a little boy. Looks like you've finally figured it out. _Fierce tears stung her eyes as memories of another child rose up. She could _feel _Haley in her arms, hear her voice…

She blinked the tears away and smiled. The image of Leonardo, holding a child so gently in his lap, was bitter-sweet.

_He'll make such a good father someday._ The thought came unbidden, and when Leo looked up into her eyes, her breath caught in her chest.

"Raph-el!" shouted Isamu suddenly. He scrambled off Leonardo's lap, the book clutched firmly in his hands. "Raph-el! Hat!" He dashed off across the Lair toward Raphael, who was leaning against the door way of the Lab, talking to Casey.

"What made you change your mind?" Sierra asked softly.

"Donny." Leonardo's voice was soft, uncertain.

Sierra nodded, reaching without looking for his hand. "Your brother's pretty smart, huh?"

Strong fingers closed around hers, not quite clinging. Relief flickered in his eyes. "He really is."

Sierra watched over the back of the couch as Raph scooped the little boy up.

"Hat!" exclaimed Isamu, pointing.

Raphael grinned. "That's right, Kid. Da guy's got a hat."

She giggled. Seeing the tough Turtle cuddling the little boy was almost too much. When she turned to look at Leo again, she found it hard to breathe. He was watching her intensely, a mixture of sorrow and wariness clouding his deep brown eyes.

The laughter died. Without conscious thought, she leaned forward, reaching up to cup his face with her free hand. His eyes widened slightly with surprise.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I love you."

"Me too. I was being a bone-head. Forgive me?"

Instead of answering, Sierra leaned in, pressing her mouth to his. She felt him stiffen for an instant before he melted into the kiss, his arms coming around her and drawing her close.

Vaguely she heard Donatello's voice. "Guess they made up."

"Sure looks like it," answered Raphael.

She felt the couch shift slightly, and heard a _whump_, followed by Casey laughing.

"Nice shot, Leo," he called.

Breaking off the kiss, Sierra looked into his face, her eyebrows rising. Leonardo shrugged and gave her a half-sheepish grin, shooting his brothers a glare over his shoulder. A couch cushion lay at Raphael's feet. Sierra laughed, realizing Leonardo had thrown the missile at his brother. She met his eyes and grinned at the way he was smirking.

"You are all such a bunch of _boys_."


	42. Chapter 41 Research

**Chapter 41 ~**_**Research~**_

"Donny?"

Ann's voice startled Donatello so badly he nearly fell backward out of his chair. The auburn-haired woman stood just inside the doorway to the Lab, one hand over her mouth, her eyes wide.

"I'm sorry, Don," she said, coming in. "I didn't think it was possible to startle you. You usually know I'm coming into a room before I do."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I was kind of immersed."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you. Mike just asked me to let you know supper will be ready soon. What were you doing?"

"Searching news stories. I'm trying to get a handle on what the Foot are up to," he said, rubbing his temples. He turned back to the computer, clicking through a series of windows. "So far in the past two days there have been four murders, two domestics, a drive-by and an unsolved stabbing, three senators caught with their pants down, one figuratively," he glanced at Ann. A smile tugged at his mouth when he saw her smirk at his mild attempt at humor. "But none of it appears to be connected with the recent Foot activity, and there's nothing that would seem to indicate this apparent partnership between the PD's and the Foot. I just don't get it. I'm missing _something,_ I just know I am."

"Well, right now it's time to eat," said Ann firmly. She reached boldly over his shoulder and pushed a button. The screen went black.

Donatello stared for three seconds, torn between shock and outrage, before he realized she'd simply turned off the monitor. He turned to glare at her, but his sister-in-law returned his look with a confident grin.

"I can't believe you just did that," he grumbled, standing up and stretching so that his joints _popped_ back into place.

"Well it's the only way to get you away from that thing," she retorted. "Come on. Supper will be cold."

She stood, with her arms crossed over her chest, waiting.

"You can go ahead," he said. "I'll be right there."

"Oh no." She shook her head. "Nice try, Genius."

She sounded so much like his brother, Donatello laughed.

"Ok, ok, I'm going. Geez."

"The computer will be here when you get back," she teased, trailing him out of the lab.

Don turned to retort, just in time to catch Ann as she swayed, falling forward in a near-faint. She recovered just as quickly, but Don noticed she was pale and sweating.

"Ann!" He lifted her bodily to her feet, and half-carried her to the couch. "Ann, are you all right?"

"I… I think so. I just felt very dizzy there for a moment."

"How do you feel now?" He took her wrist in his hand. Her pulse was slightly fast and shallow, but strong. The color was returning to her face.

"I'm all right, Don, honestly," she said, struggling to stand.

"Better sit for a minute," he said firmly. "Ann, are you still throwing up?"

She shook her head, but avoided his eyes. "I'm fine, Donny, honestly. It's just that stomach flu. It seems to be hanging on a bit."

"Halloween was… what, three weeks ago? You should be over it by now." He frowned. "Ann, if you're still not feeling well, perhaps you should see a doctor."

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I have an overprotective personal physician right here."

"No, I mean a _human_ doctor. Someone who can run tests and make sure there's nothing more wrong than an overgrowth of intestinal bacteria," said Don seriously.

Ann made a face. "Oh, thanks for that," she said. "Any appetite I had just disappeared."

"You really should try to eat something," Don insisted. He stood up, holding out his hand to the woman. She took it, and he pulled her gently to her feet.

"Ok, ok," She waved him off. "Whatever you say, Doc."

"Ya know, if ya didn't have a wife o' yer own, Bro, I might take offense to ya holdin' mine's hand," said Raph gruffly as he came down the stairs.

Donatello grinned. "Oh yeah? What're you going to do about it, Raph?" he teased.

"Oh for the love of…" Ann dodged out of the way as Raphael launched at his brother with a growl. She had to move around the couch to avoid the friendly wrestling match that ensued.

"If you two are _quite_ finished," called Beverly from the kitchen. "Michelangelo says the last Turtle to the table is doing the dishes!"

The announcement had the desired result. Both Turtles were on their feet in an instant. Donatello beat his brother into a seat by a hairsbreadth. He grinned across the table at a scowling Raphael.

"Sorry, Raph."

"It's ok, honey, I'll help you with the dishes," said Ann, giving Raph a quick kiss on the cheek before sinking into her own place beside him. Beverly sat down next to Donatello, handing Kouki over to his father.

Don settled his son on his lap and looked around the table at his family. Isamu was happily perched on Raphael's knee, and Skylar sat with Austin, banging on the table with a spoon, grinning. A rare feeling of warmth and contentment filled him. Times like these, when they were all gathered together for a meal, were some of the most satisfying moments he enjoyed with his family. He reached for Beverly's hand under the table, giving it a squeeze. She glanced at him, startled, and gave him a knowing smile. Quirking one eyebrow, she glanced toward the head of the table where Splinter sat, and back to Don, her smile growing.

Only then did Donatello realize that Leonardo and Sierra's seats had been shifted to the right to make room for an extra chair. Lucille was leaning toward his father, listening to something Splinter was saying. She was smiling in a way that made her face seem to light up from within, giving her a healthy glow.

_Shell,_ thought Don with a shock. He peered at his father's animated expression. _He's not just being friendly. I don't think I've ever seen Sensei look so… engaged. So interested… so _happy._ Could he be falling for her? After all these years, a _human_ woman? And it looks like she feels it too. _

"Hey, Donny, pass the potatoes will ya?" Michelangelo's request broke into his thoughts and he reached for the dish, taking a spoonful and handing it down the table.

Donatello spent the rest of the meal surreptitiously studying his father and Lucille in between coaxing Kouki to try small bites of the soft foods they were starting him on. While neither Splinter nor Lucille seemed exclusively focused on the other, engaging in the group conversation and tucking into the roast Michelangelo had prepared with good appetites, Don noticed the smiles that crept over their faces whenever their eyes met, and the way their hands seemed to touch every time a dish was passed between them.

By the end of the meal, it was all he could do to keep from grinning. It was obvious that Splinter was almost-painfully aware of Lucille. Don understood the feeling well. He'd experienced it first-hand while recovering in Beverly's home after she'd rescued him from her insane brother.

His Sensei seemed to lack the discomfort and uncertainty Don had suffered, but the nerves the Rat had to be facing glimmered now and then through cracks in his practiced calm. The slight tremor in his hand on the table when Lucille laid her hand on his arm while speaking, and the way his whiskers twitched when he passed her a bowl of salad were undetectable except by someone who knew Splinter as well as his sons.

As Raphael scraped the last of the mashed potatoes from the bowl, Donatello noticed something else. Austin's hazel eyes flickered from her aunt to her father-in-law, and a small smile tugged at her mouth as she quietly fed Skylar bits of green bean and potato.

_So, I'm not the only one who's noticed. I guess Raph and Leo have been a bit distracted,_ thought Donatello. _Well, they'll notice soon enough, if this goes anywhere. I hope Lucille sticks around, for Sensei's sake if nothing else. She seems like a remarkable woman. I just can't believe it, after all these years._ _I guess attraction doesn't have an age limit._

"I'll take Kouki upstairs, Donny," said Beverly. Don nodded, handing over his son.

"He did really well. I think he ate five green beans, and probably a table spoon of mashed potatoes," he said.

Beverly smiled proudly. "He's a growing boy." She leaned down and kissed Don on the cheek. "Don't be too long, ok?"

"I'll try."

Don got up and carried his plate to the counter, passing his red-masked brother. Raphael scowled, elbowing him. "It's yer fault I got stuck doin' dishes, Genius," he grumbled.

Donatello just grinned. "Sorry, Bro."

"No yer not," retorted Raphael.

"If it makes you feel any better, I've got to get back to work researching the news reports," said Don. "Besides, your wife said she'd give you a hand."

"That's right." Ann sidled up to Raph, reaching around him to snatch the dishrag. "You want to wash or dry?"

"I can do dis, Annie. Why dontcha go get some rest?" Raph's voice went low and soft. Don had to look away. His brother was at his most vulnerable with his wife, his rare tenderness rising easily to the surface.

"Raph, I'm _fine_," said Ann, smiling. "Now pick a job before I pick for you."

"Ya stubborn pain in da…" Raph grumbled under his breath.

Don beat a hasty retreat, escaping the kitchen before the argument could heat up.

"Any progress, Donny?" asked Leonardo as Don passed through the living area.

"You'll be the first to know," replied Donatello mildly.

Leo nodded, gripping his brother's shoulder briefly before heading upstairs. Don watched him go with a surprised smile. Usually Leonardo followed a meal with an hour or so of meditation. It seemed he was breaking his routine tonight, perhaps to spend some time repairing the rift with Sierra. Yes, it felt good to have everyone at home and everything normal for a change. Relatively normal. As normal as it ever was for his family.

Don ducked into his lab before Michelangelo could challenge him to a video game marathon. As tempting as the thought of some mindless digital violence was, he knew Leonardo was waiting for the intelligence he hoped to find.

_Time to dig a bit deeper,_ he thought. _Start checking the Foot's internal records again, and maybe hack into the police databases to see if there's any traffic they're not going public with at the moment. _

He sank into his chair and pushed the button to bring his monitor back to life, grinning at the memory of his sister-in-law's teasing. Ann had brought her own brand of fun into the Lair, as each of the girls had. Beverly was often quiet and serious, but she laughed as easily as anyone and had her own subtle sense of humor. Ann, on the other hand, was straight-forward, unafraid to express her opinion. Of all the girls, she laughed the loudest, argued most readily, and was as spirited as Raphael himself, but in a far more controlled, feminine way. Where Raph expressed his emotions physically, Ann was more vocal, constructing arguments that could back even the most determined opponent into a corner.

_I guess that's why she's such an effective lawyer,_ thought Don. A slight frown creased his brow. _I know she's not keen on the idea of seeing a doctor topside, but if these 'flu' symptoms persist, I'll have to mention it to Raph. He's over protective, but he's also the only one who can really convince her to do something she doesn't want to do. _

Filing away the mental note, Donatello refreshed the news feed once more. When nothing new came up, he sighed and minimized the screen, shifting to a program he'd written himself, designed to hack seamlessly into law enforcement's less public files. With a few clicks of the keyboard, he'd set the search parameters.

_Recent activity, high-priority cases… cases involving violence…  
_

Anything the Foot touched soon resulted in bloodshed. They tended to leave a trail of broken bodies, and broken lives, behind their operations. The PD's, while slightly less organized, were no less violent.

_Missing printing plates? That's odd. And there's more to this file. They've encrypted it, but that won't take long to... _Donatello clicked a few keys, and the NYPD database gave up its secrets. _Hmmm… This is linked to another case... FBI? Well, agents, sorry, but I need that information. _A few more clicks, and a tense moment as he maneuvered past some password protected security systems, and Don felt the familiar rush of victory.

_ Senator Johnson reported a break-in at his home… Isn't he one of the two who were implicated in the scandal?_ A few clicks of the mouse brought Don back to the original page where he read about the unfortunate politician's fall from grace.

_Money laundering? What's this? The Senator was on the… Office for Terrorist Financing and Financial Crimes. Doesn't that have to do with…_

A quick Google search led Donatello into the workings of the Treasury of the United States. _March 31, 2003 - Secretary John W. Snow established the Executive Office for Terrorist Financing and Financial Crimes. _

Don hummed quietly to himself. _Senator Johnson was on that committee. Missing plates_… Printing plates. Donatello frowned. _But how is this related to the Foot and PD's working together?_

Another dead end. He blew out a sigh of frustration. Glancing at the clock in the lower corner of the screen, he shook his head. This line of research was leading nowhere, and his wife and son hadn't seen much of him in the past couple of days. He minimized the screens, resolving to start fresh in the morning.

"Donatello?"

Don turned, hiding the way he'd been startled from long habit.

"_Hai_, Sensei?"

"Forgive the intrusion, my son," said Splinter in his quiet way. The faintly dazed smile that had been fixed upon his face for most of the meal had faded into an expression of heightened contentment. "I wished to speak with you, if I may."

"Of course, Father."

Splinter came further into the room, but his gaze wandered to Donatello's desk, avoiding his son's face, as if he were collecting his thoughts. In Donatello's experience, Splinter rarely hesitated. Years of training and meditation, many battles and victories, had given him a sense of unshakable inner strength and confidence, even in the face of his most formidable enemies.

With his sons, his manner was often gentle, sometimes persuasive, occasionally forceful and always confident. Donatello had almost never seen this uncertainty in his Sensei's manner, save for once, when he'd brought them together to discuss the more delicate matters between a man and a woman, after he'd caught Michelangelo and Raphael snickering over April's relationship with Casey Jones.

Don waited. Splinter would speak, in his own good time. He didn't have to wait long.

"My son, you have done well in raising your own child."

"_Doomo arigato, _Sensei," murmured Don, surprised. Surely his father hadn't come in simply to compliment his parenting skills. Though he was deeply gratified by Splinter's approval, he knew he and Beverly had a long way to go in raising Kouki.

"I… do not wish to interfere," said Splinter, half to himself. "It is not my place."

"You… are concerned about something, Father?" Donatello prodded gently. Splinter met his son's eyes with an uncertain look. Don had a sudden, but faint, sense of loss, the awareness of the shift that happens inevitably between a parent and a child as the child matures into adulthood. He understood Splinter's hesitation now. Donatello had grown. Splinter was no longer addressing him as a parent advising a child. His approach was that of one adult to another, and it was new territory for both of them.

Splinter nodded, seeming to come to a decision. He met his son's gaze directly. "I wish to speak with you concerning my grandson's… education," he said.

"Education, Sensei?"

"Donatello, you are aware of your son's nature," Splinter began. He leaned slightly forward, resting his hands on his walking stick. "And what the future may hold here, if… if you choose to remain in this city as he grows. Have you considered further, the issue of his training?"

"We're not thinking of leaving, Father." The words came forth from the shock of knowing his father had even considered such a possibility. Leaving the family, his clan, his home? The thought had not crossed Donatello's mind.

_But if Beverly won't agree to letting Kouki train…_ A cold, sick lump took up residence in the pit of Don's stomach. _If Splinter hadn't trained _us_, we wouldn't have survived in the city._

"I am pleased to hear it, my son." The relief was well hidden by Splinter's habitual calm, but it was there.

"The truth is," said Donatello slowly, "With so much going on, Beverly and I haven't had a chance to really discuss the matter."

"Time will not remove the need for decision," warned Splinter mildly, but his dark eyes never left Donatello's face.

Don nodded. "I understand, Father. You're right. I will talk to Beverly. My son's training will not be neglected."

Splinter bowed his head in acknowledgment. "I ask only that you consider it, my son. My concern is for my grandson."

"Of course, Father. I will not neglect Kouki's training." _Bev and I are just going to have to work this out._

"Thank you, my son."

Splinter nodded to his son, preparing to leave.

"Father, wait."

"Yes, Donatello?"

"Do you remember anything… unusual, about the night you went with Leo and Raph to the warehouse? Anything that might help point me in the right direction?"

Splinter hesitated, but Donatello could see the thoughts turning in his mind.

_He may be getting older, but his mind is as keen as ever_, thought Don with a small rush of pride.

"There was… an unusual scent," said Splinter. "Sharp. Ink, I believe. And Raphael found some very strange paper. I believe he took a sample."

"Paper… and ink?" Don frowned. _Printing plates, paper and ink. _"Hmm. I'll ask Raph about the sample. Thank you, Father."

Splinter nodded his acknowledgment and left. Donatello leaned back in his chair, turning once more to the screen. _Missing printing plates… What would the Foot want with those? It's not as though you can just run them through your average printing machine. Even if all conditions are correct, there are so many safeguards on US money…_

Don shook his head. Something was up, and he intended to figure out what.


	43. Chapter 42 Honor

**Chapter 42 ~**_**Honor~**_

Lucille was finding it difficult to occupy her time, now that everyone had wandered off for the evening to pursue their own activities.

_Perhaps I should've gone back to the hotel,_ thought Luci. _But Austin would worry so._

Austin had practically begged her to stay in the Lair while Ann researched legal avenues, and in the end she'd agreed. Any chance to spend more time with this unusual family was welcome. She told herself that she wanted to be certain Michelangelo was good to Austin, that her niece was truly safe here with her unconventional mate, but in the privacy of her own thoughts, she could admit that a certain gentle-Rat's presence was a strong motivation for staying close to her niece's family as well. Splinter was a fascinating soul... Besides, he'd offered to teach her to play poker later in the evening.

Lucille moved into the main room, absently fingering the heart she wore around her neck. The jade heart was set in gold… the only reminder she carried of the man who'd nearly become her husband. She sighed.

_Oh Robert. You looked so handsome, that day, in your uniform. You promised you'd come home safely to me. You gave me your word…_

The familiar ache tugged at her chest, but her tears had long since dried. The regret was an old, peaceful companion now; it no longer tore at her with slashing claws, soaking her pillow with tears. Thirty years was a long time to mourn a love that had not come to be.

_There never was anyone else, Robert,_ thought Lucille fondly, as she settled into one of the chairs in the living area. The bank of televisions was silent and blank for now, and the members of the family each seemed occupied with their own pursuits.

With one thing and another, no other man had been able to step into that place in her heart once occupied by a slender young man with laughing blue eyes and brown hair curling over his forehead. _It wasn't curling when you left… Oh how I cried when they made you cut your hair short,_ thought Lucille. _And all the smiles had gone from your eyes._

She fingered the heart once more. A faint whiff of something… spicy, smoky, and faintly… _other_, caught her attention and she turned, smiling instinctively, half expecting Robert to be standing there. The eyes that met her own were dark, searching, startling, and Lucille felt her heart surge. For an instant, she was twenty years old again, standing on the dock as he embraced her one last time… Time seemed to stand still for an instant, one moment superimposed upon the other. She blinked, and the strangeness passed. Robert was gone, and only Splinter remained.

Lucille studied him, intrigued. Looking into his dark eyes she saw an awareness, a knowledge of things that seemed just beyond her grasp. She saw a veiled uncertainty, a watchfulness. There was something else, something she couldn't quite pinpoint, but it made her feel flustered and awkward suddenly, much as she had when she was young… when she'd first met Robert and realized he was looking at _her._

Realizing she was staring, Luci quickly turned away, clearing her throat.

"Good evening, Splinter."

"Good evening, Lucille-san."

Even his voice brushed her senses, drawing her eyes back to his face. He looked… not offended, but aware. Slowly, he came closer. He moved instinctively toward his own chair, across the space, but hesitated. His uncertain glance flicked to her face and Lucille smiled. She stood up, stretching, and moved casually to the couch, perching on the cushion and reaching for a half-finished comic book Michelangelo had left on the coffee table. She sank back into the couch and turned to the first page.

"Your son is a very talented artist," she commented.

"I… yes, he is." Splinter smiled and settled on the couch next to her, keeping a politely formal distance. "Michelangelo's ability has grown."

"It's only natural," said Lucille, nodding. She turned the page and smiled. The Turtle Titan looked quite familiar, even with the costume. "He obviously spends a great deal of time practicing."

"Yes."

"Austin tells me he illustrated a picture book."

"He did." Splinter nodded, a faint smile tugging at his mouth as he settled more comfortably into the cushion. "I was apprehensive, at first, of this new venture."

"Because of the contact with the outside world?" asked Lucille sympathetically.

"Yes. Our existence depends on secrecy," Splinter answered gravely. "But April's assistance made it possible for Michelangelo to maintain our safety."

"She acts as his agent?" Lucille glanced at the Rat. His gaze rested on the make-shift book in her hands, the pride obvious in his expression.

"April has been a good friend to our family." Splinter nodded.

"How did you manage to meet April?"

Splinter chuckled. "My sons… they are impulsive at times. Miss O'Neil was attacked in the tunnels by robotic mousers…"

"Oh! I heard about that," Lucille gasped. "Not about the attack, but those robots! Some scientist had created them, but they went a bit nuts and started tearing up the city's foundations. How on earth did they corner April?"

"Doctor Stockman, the scientist who created them, set them to attack her. She was his assistant," explained Splinter patiently. "He was using them for evil purposes. When April discovered his plans, she threatened to expose him."

"So he tried to get rid of her?" Lucille shuddered.

Splinter nodded grimly. "My sons intervened. I am afraid April's initial shock upon seeing them caused her to lose consciousness."

"She fainted?"

"Yes. Feeling she was in danger, they brought her back to our home."

"Were you upset with them?"

Splinter closed his eyes. "I was afraid for them. We had hidden from the outside world for fifteen years. No human had discovered our secret before. I did not know what to do."

"But she turned out to be a friend."

"Most fortunately for us."

"Fortunate for her, I'd say," said Lucille.

Splinter shook his head. "I could not have brought myself to do her harm."

"You really are an extraordinary person," said Lucille softly.

His dark eyes snapped to her face. Luci met his gaze steadily, unflinching, and after a moment he looked away. He cleared his throat.

"Our family has grown, since those days."

"It has indeed." Lucille smiled. She hadn't gotten to know the other girls Austin referred to as her 'sisters' very well yet, but from what she had seen, they were a close-knit team, drawn together by the common bonds of an uncommon family.

"We have been most fortunate."

"Your daughters in law seem like such nice young women," said Lucille. "And you've raised four fine sons."

"Thank you, Lucille-san," said Splinter peaceably. She could see by his relaxed, contented expression that he agreed. "Have you children, Lucille-san?"

Her startled laugh seemed to embarrass him. He glanced at her, uncertain.

"Forgive me. Perhaps I should not ask?"

"No, it's quite all right. No, I don't have any children of my own. I've never married." Her hand strayed to the chain.

"That is a lovely necklace," Splinter remarked politely.

"Oh!" Luci took her hand away, feeling a flush rise to her cheeks. "Thank you."

"You wear it for a memory," said Splinter calmly.

Luci nodded. She drew a deep slow breath, and let it out with a sigh. "His name was Robert. We were… promised."

"But it did not come to be?"

"No. He was called to war. Vietnam. It took so many young people from our generation," said Lucille. "He gave me this necklace the night before he was to leave. He said it was a token; that he would return. He gave me his word of honor."

Splinter went very still beside her. Something flashed in his eyes.

"I am sorry for your loss, Lucille-san."

Luci smiled to cover her confusion at his sudden formality. "Thank you, Splinter. It was a long time ago. I suppose it's foolish of me to wear his necklace still."

"There is nothing foolish about honoring those who have gone before us," said Splinter a little gruffly.

"You're right, of course." Lucille nodded, and his expression softened.

_I'd forgotten about that shrine I saw in his room. He has suffered loss as well._ It didn't seem quite the moment to ask, so Lucille thought quickly and changed the subject.

"So you've known April almost twenty years now?"

"Yes." He breathed out. "It does not seem possible, and yet it is true."

"Austin says she's a fine young woman. She and Donatello have been working on inventions together."

"Yes." The Rat smiled with obvious pride. "April has introduced my sons to possibilities they could not have known without her assistance. Donatello holds several patents now on things he has invented. April is in the process of creating a small company. My son has become a businessman as well as a warrior."

"Amazing," said Lucille. "He is a remarkable young man. He's been very kind to Austin. She tells me he was the first of Michelangelo's brothers to accept her."

Splinter's reply was cut off by the scrabble of small footsteps. A small, dark-haired tornado raced across the room from the base of the stairs, tripping and nearly crashing face-first into the coffee table in his haste. Lucille gasped and lunged, seeing the imminent disaster an instant too late to stop the child's fall, but a brown flash blurred in her vision and Splinter's arm captured Isamu before his vulnerable head could smash into the hard wood.

"Isamu-kun, what is your hurry?" scolded Splinter gently, righting the boy and kneeling to grasp his shoulders. "You were nearly injured. You must not run indoors, child."

The little boy stared into the Rat's face, terror etched clearly in his expression, and burst into noisy tears. Splinter looked shocked for an instant before his arms went around the child, drawing him near. Isamu stiffened, pushing at the Rat's shoulder and squirming to escape.

Lucille knelt beside them, patting the child's back.

"There, now, Isamu, you're safe," she said gently. Isamu struggled harder, and Splinter released his embrace, but held onto the child's arm to prevent him from running off.

"What is wrong, Isamu-kun?" asked Splinter. "You are safe here. No one will harm you."

"Isamu bad!" cried the child, ducking his head. "Bad boy!"

Lucille's heart twisted, but it was Splinter who answered.

"Isamu-kun, look at me," he commanded. The little boy sniffed loudly, but he slowly lifted his face to look into the Rat's eyes. "You are not bad, child."

Isamu turned his head, frowning. Splinter reached up and cupped the little boy's cheek, turning his face back.

"Isamu-kun."

Lucille's breathing nearly stopped as she watched the Rat. The understanding way he held the child's gaze, the gentle firmness in his voice… She could see how he must have been with his sons when they were very small, and she could understand how they grew into the young men she'd met. She could understand why Austin trusted him, how this family came to be so close-knit.

Splinter said something soft in Japanese, and Isamu surged forward, wrapping his arms around the Rat's neck, his sobs muffled in his shoulder.

"Isamu bad," he whimpered.

"No, Isamu-kun," soothed Splinter. "Perhaps you have made a poor choice, but choices can be set right. Who is angry with you, child?"

"See-ra. Isamu bad."

"Did Sierra tell you that you were bad?" asked Lucille. She couldn't imagine the gentle young woman instilling this level of fear into the child, but Donatello had told them all a little about the home from which he'd been taken. _It's little wonder he's traumatized. _

Splinter peeled the child from his shoulder, holding him out a few inches so that he could look into his face.

Isamu shook his head, but shivered. "Isamu bad," he whispered again. "Touched Le-nardo's inks."

Splinter tutted. "That was a poor choice, Isamu," he said. "But perhaps if we go upstairs and speak with Sierra, we might set things right again. A ninja must always set right his wrongs."

Lucille rocked back on her heels, watching the exchange, fascinated. She'd never seen anyone handle a child with such wisdom, strength and gentleness.

Isamu hesitated, but then he nodded. "Isamu fix?" he asked, uncertain.

"Yes, that is a wise idea, Isamu-kun. Come." Splinter rose, holding out his hand to the child.

Isamu reached reluctantly, and took the furred hand in his own.

"Luci come?" he asked, looking expectantly up at the woman.

"If you like," said Lucille, glancing at Splinter. He gave her a slight nod of assent, so she took the little boy's other hand. Together, they made their way up the stairs. Splinter rapped gently against the door to Leonardo's room.

"Just a moment," called Sierra.

Lucille heard the young woman swear, and her eyebrows rose. She'd never heard her sound so flustered or so frustrated.

There were a few shuffling thumps and a cry of triumph before Sierra opened the door. She was flushed, her hair disheveled, and she was panting slightly.

"Oh! Splinter… Isamu… Oh I'm glad you've got him," said Sierra. "I am sorry, Splinter. I should have come after him, but I had to catch them before it got worse…" She stepped back, letting them see the inside of the room.

Lucille's eyes widened. It was in shambles. There were papers all over the floor, and black streaks and spots marked every surface, even trailing up the brick walls.

"Isamu touched inks," said Isamu glumly.

Sierra knelt to the child's level. "Yes, Isamu, you touched Leo's inks," she said, her tone firm but not unkind. "And then Ruthy and Candy got into them and now see what a mess they've made!"

Isamu ducked his head, pressing against Splinter's side. Lucille felt his hand tremble in her own.

"Perhaps we can set it right again," she said, recalling Splinter's words.

The boy shook his head. "Isamu bad."

"Isamu-kun." Splinter's tone was firm, but Lucille saw the kind way he looked at the boy as he grasped his shoulders. Isamu's trembling gaze came up to meet the Rat's. "You must help Sierra clean up, and you must never touch Leonardo's things without permission again."

The trembling increased, but Isamu nodded. He looked fearfully from Splinter to Sierra.

"Isamu bad?" he whispered. "See-ra spank?"

Sierra looked startled, and opened her mouth to protest, but Splinter shook his head. "No, Isamu," he said firmly. "No one here will harm you. Now, go. Pick up these papers."

Understanding lit the child's face like the sun dawning over the horizon. Lucille felt tears sting her eyes as she watched his expression turn from fearful anxiety to hope to joy.

"I fix," he said, beaming. He turned to Sierra. "Sorry, See-ra. I fix."

Sierra smiled, holding out her hand to the boy. "All right, Isamu. Let's clean up the mess together, ok?"

"I clean. Isamu good boy. I fix."

Luci watched as the boy disappeared into the bedroom, reaching eagerly to pick up the scattered papers.

"Perhaps I could help her clear up the ink," she suggested, but Splinter shook his head.

"It is best for the boy to help," he said quietly. "He must learn to rectify his own mistakes, and that he is safe from retribution here."

Lucille wanted to protest that the job was surely too large for such a small boy, but thought better of it. She followed Splinter back downstairs.

"So, you made him help Sierra so he'll see he's not going to be punished harshly for getting into Leonardo's things?" she asked.

Splinter nodded. "He needed a chance to redeem himself," he said with a small smile. "Children are prone to mistakes. They must be given opportunities to learn from them."

"What will happen to him, Splinter?" asked Lucille.

The Rat looked at her, his dark eyes unreadable. "I do not know," he said finally. "But we will not allow him to come to harm, as long as we can prevent it. I gave Donatello my word. He is under our protection until we can find a safe place for him."

_I can't think of anyplace safer than this,_ thought Lucille. "The longer he stays, the more difficult it will be for him to leave," she said aloud.

Splinter nodded. "Yes. I fear we must resolve the question of his future soon."

Lucille reached instinctively and squeezed the Rat's shoulder. He glanced at her, startled, but not displeased.

"All of us have to face the future," said Luci quietly. "But none of us have to do it alone."


	44. Chapter 43 Poker

**Chapter 43 ~**_**Poker~**_

Ann Hamato let out a little _huff_ of frustration, flipping her shell-cell closed. She preferred to speak to her office on her more conventional cell phone, as it raised fewer eyebrows when her number was visible on the caller ID, but the signal was useless underground. The shell-cell numbers were necessarily private, blocked, and untraceable, making them a rather inconvenient business line. She'd considered asking Donatello how much trouble it would be to install a land-line, so that she could have a "home phone" number to give out at the office, but the recent trouble had driven the thoughts from her mind, and the phone call hadn't helped much. _Not much precedent… Sorry. _

She stood up, stretching cautiously. Bailey raised his head, and his tail _thumped_ against the floor, but a firm "stay" had him lying back down again. To Ann's relief, the familiar nausea seemed calm for the moment. Her stomach rolled over, giving up one small gas bubble, before settling down again. Ann made a face.

_I'll come back to this,_ she thought, gazing at the book of case law she'd been poring over. Medical cases represented one of the most complex branches of the law. Ann had made good progress in understanding the process for gaining custody of a medically unfit person, but she had yet to find anything that would limit Rin's authority over his ex wife. Since they had never divorced, his custody would be difficult to dispute. She'd been reading the history of the Terri Schaivo case, due to the unfortunate legal similarities.

_Looks like our best bet will be to get Janey declared competent after all, _thought Ann. _At least she's conscious. Not like that poor Schaivo woman. And Luci's got a strong platform, having been her primary caregiver since she's been ill. Heck, if all else fails, the boys will just have to kidnap her from the hospital. _

She almost smiled, but the thought was too grim. _They would, too, if they thought it would help Austin. I hope it doesn't come to anything drastic like that._

Heading downstairs, she noticed the Lair was relatively quiet for a change. _I really need a cup of Splinter's medicinal tea if I'm going to get through this night,_ thought Ann. _Raph should sleep well at least, if Don makes him take something for the pain. Once he's asleep I can get back to those briefs._

Ann smiled. Raphael wasn't much of a cuddler, but he occasionally complained he didn't sleep well unless she was in bed with him. She suspected it had to do with the Turtles' inability to generate much heat for themselves. Don had theorized they wouldn't have been able to survive New York's harsh winters if they were truly cold-blooded, but they had to be cautious about their internal temperature on patrol during very cold nights.

She moved toward the kitchen, thinking a cup of spearmint tea might help soothe her nerves and continue the current truce with her cantankerous digestion. Hearing voices, she went in, her eyebrows rising.

"Good evening, _musume_," said Splinter calmly. The Rat was sitting at the table, playing cards fanned out in his delicate fingers.

"So, four of a kind is good, right?" Lucille was asking, peering at the cards in her hands.

Splinter nodded. "_Hai_, yes. Four of the same pattern, in order, is better still."

"I remember. A straight flush, right?"

"Yes, Lucille-san."

Ann smiled. "You two look as if you're having a good time," she remarked, going to the stove and lighting a burner. She glanced over Splinter's shoulder, and had to contain a snort.

_It's a good thing they're playing with matchsticks and not real money_, she thought. _Otherwise Luci might lose her fare back to New Jersey._

"Oh! Hello… Ann, isn't it?" The older woman looked up from her cards with a friendly smile.

Ann nodded, returning the smile.

"I want to thank you… all you're doing to help with Janey," Luci said.

"Think nothing of it," replied Ann lightly. She put the leaves carefully into one of Splinter's metal tea balls, setting it into a cup to wait for the water to heat. "Would you mind if I watched?" she asked.

Splinter nodded. "Not at all, Ann. Please join us."

"Thank you, Splinter," said Ann, sinking into a chair. She watched with interest as Luci discarded and drew another card. Splinter simply smiled.

"Ok, now we put down our cards?" asked Lucille.

"_Hai._"

Luci laid her cards down, face-up on the table, and Splinter did the same. Ann watched as Lucille's expression fell.

"I believe you won that round," she said, hiding her disappointment with a smile.

Ann chuckled. "Splinter's the most cunning poker player I've ever met," she advised Luci. "None of the boys can beat him."

Lucille looked up from the cards she was studying so closely, and started to laugh. "Splinter, you didn't tell me you were a card sharp," she teased.

The Rat's whiskers twitched as he gathered the cards. "Deception is one of the ninja's most valuable weapons," he answered calmly, but Ann saw a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"It's not nice to deceive a lady," scolded Lucille good naturedly.

"I apologize, Lucille-san. Perhaps you would like to play again?"

Ann chuckled. The Rat's eyes were twinkling mischievously. She'd rarely seen him in such good humor. _What on earth has gotten into you, Splinter?_

The tea kettle's lid rattled, and she stood up quickly.

"Would anyone else like a cup of tea?" she asked.

Lucille shook her head. "No thank you, dear," she said.

"I would like a cup, if it's not too much trouble, Daughter," said Splinter, without turning. He was shuffling the cards again.

"Not at all," replied Ann.

She hummed quietly to herself as she gathered a small ball-full of the fragrant herbs Splinter preferred. She made a face. Usually she enjoyed the scent of Splinter's strong brand of tea, but tonight, for some reason her stomach rolled over, and for a moment she thought she might be embarrassingly ill in front of her father-in-law and their house guest.

She turned her head away from the fragrance, drawing a deep, slow breath. When she opened her eyes, she found both Splinter and Lucille were watching her. Splinter rose from his seat.

"Come, daughter. You must sit," he said gently, taking her by the hand and leading her back to the table.

"Don't be silly, I'm fine," said Ann, but she felt lightheaded and dizzy.

"I'll fix her tea," said Luci, getting up.

"If you would not mind, Lucille-san, perhaps you should fetch Donatello," said Splinter, worriedly peering into Ann's face. "I fear Ann is ill."

"Of course." Lucille hurried from the room.

"I'm fine, Splinter," said Ann, swallowing hard against the nausea.

Splinter laid gentle fingers against her neck, just where it met the shoulder, and applied slight pressure. The nausea faded.

"Is that better, Ann?" he asked.

Ann nodded. "Thank you."

"Daughter," Splinter's voice was soft, soothing. "Perhaps you should take rest. You have been neglecting your sleep…"

"I have work to do. Austin's mother needs legal protection," protested Ann, shaking her head. "I'm fine, Splinter, I really am. It's just this da… er, darn, stomach flu. It keeps hanging on."

Ann glanced at the Rat's face, embarrassed by the curse she'd nearly let slip. He was smiling knowingly. "I believe, daughter, this is no ordinary sickness," he said gently. "How long have you been feeling ill?"

"About three weeks I guess," she replied, frowning. "A little more, maybe."

"And, forgive me, _musume,_ but how long since your body has last been visited by its monthly cycle?"

Ann blushed furiously. She was a modern woman, and not at all shy, but this was _not _a topic she was comfortable discussing with her very formal and normally reserved father-in-law.

She was spared from answering by Donatello rushing into the room, Lucille close behind him. He knelt beside her chair and took her wrist between his fingers, presumably feeling her pulse.

"Pretty sure my heart's still beating, Donny," she murmured, avoiding Splinter's steady gaze.

"A bit fast, but otherwise strong." Don was nodding, ignoring her sarcasm. "Did you pass out again?"

"Geez, I just felt a little sick," said Ann, pulling her hand out of his grasp. "Why is everyone making such a fuss? It's just a stomach flu."

"I think, _musume_," said Splinter quietly, "That there is more to this than an illness."

He looked at Donatello and spoke quietly in Japanese. Don's eyes widened and he rocked back on his heels.

"Do you think so, Sensei?" He looked up at Ann again, pensive. Slowly, a wide grin crept across his face. "Ann, have you considered… umm, other possibilities?"

"What are you _talking_ about, Don? What possibilities?" Ann glared at her brother-in-law, annoyed with them both. She felt a sudden, inexplicable urge to cry. "What is _wrong_ with you both?"

"Ann, dear." Lucille stepped forward, clearing her throat. "I believe, what Donatello is trying to ask is… is it possible you could be… well, _pregnant_?"

"What?" Ann started to laugh. "No, no way. I mean, I know it's _possible_, but Raph and I…" She trailed off, heat burning her cheeks. "We… hadn't really… I mean, it's not as if we're _trying._" She glanced at Splinter, her embarrassment growing, but he met her eyes steadily, with an understanding smile.

"Holy…" Ann slumped back in the chair. "But… how do I find out for _sure?_ You can't tell Raph!" She looked into Don's eyes, panicked. "Not until I'm sure, Donny."

He nodded. "We'll get a test. Are you ok, Ann?"

"Yes. No. I don't know," wailed Ann. "I mean, yes, if I am… I mean…" Overwhelmed, she burst into tears.

Splinter's hand on her arm only served to increase the intensity of her sobs. She felt as if she'd suffocate from embarrassment, having the ninja master see her this way, not to mention Donatello. She liked Don, liked _all_ Raph's brothers, but she was used to being in control of herself at all times. She felt out of control, emotional, and she hated it.

Soft hands touched her shoulders, urging her up, drawing her close. The scent of lotus blossoms surrounded her, soothing her emotions and even quieting her churning stomach. Ann buried her face against Lucille's shoulder, her embarrassment forgotten. She clung to the older woman, her tears soaking into Luci's soft blouse.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm behaving like such an idiot."

"No, dear," said Luci firmly. "It's perfectly natural. I remember when Janey was first pregnant with Austin." Ann straightened, and Luci released her embrace, but rested her hands lightly on Ann's shoulders, smiling into her eyes.

"She cried at the drop of a hat for absolute ages. It's the hormones, dear, nothing to be ashamed of." Lucille patted her on the shoulder as if comforting a child. "You're going to do just fine, you and Raphael."

"Raph…" Ann sniffed, turning to Splinter, who was still standing beside her chair, as calm and collected as ever, and Donatello who stood beside his father, grinning.

"Don't worry, Ann. No one will tell Raph unless you want us too," said Don quickly. "Ninja's honor."

Splinter nodded. "It is your place to inform Raphael, Ann," he said. "Donatello and I will hold our peace." He looked expectantly toward Lucille. Ann turned to look at the woman, too, and was relieved to see her nod.

"Of course," she said, her smile nearly as wide as Donatello's. "Your secret is safe with me, too. I give you my word, even if I can't swear against a ninja's honor."

A chuckle escaped Ann, lightening a little of the heavy weight that seemed to have settled in her chest.

_A baby… Raph and I with a baby…_ She shivered. "I don't know the first thing about raising children," she said. _We're not ready. _I'm _not ready..._

Splinter's chuckle startled her. "I think you will find," he said gently. "That you are as prepared as any new parent."

"Don't worry, Ann. You've got the family to help," said Donatello confidently. He couldn't seem to stop smiling. "Raph as a father… The very concept is mind-blowing. I'm gonna be an uncle again."

Ann nodded, swallowing hard. She smiled, in spite of the fear that was clawing at her insides. _Don's right. We're not alone in this. We've got the family to support us. It's going to be ok. _

"Perhaps you should rest, Ann," said Lucille gently. "This is quite a lot to take in all at once."

"No," said Ann. "I've got to get back to the research. The custody hearing is Wednesday. That's only two more days. There's so much to do…"

"Don't worry, Ann," said Don gently. "I can help you with some of the research. Luci's right, you should get some rest."

"But the case…"

"The case will be there in the morning," said Lucille firmly. "Tonight you should rest. Think of your health, Ann. Austin's told me a bit about her pregnancy, and the special difficulties she faced bringing Skylar to term. You're going to need to rest."

Ann nodded. She remembered what Austin had gone through. Months of bed-rest, worrying over whether the baby would even be viable… At least her agony had been shared, with Beverly facing the same fears and worries. _And now that they've both given birth to healthy, beautiful children, I know it can be done,_ she told herself.

Ann sat up straighter, looking around at the faces that surrounded her, one Rat, one Turtle, one human. Her family. She smiled.

"Ok. I'll go to bed, Donny, on one condition. You promise to track down the ruling in that 1984 case involving the cancer patient whose husband tried to have her treatments stopped. I think it was Johansson vs. Daimler. The parents fought him, and won."

"Johansson, Daimler. 1984. Got it." Donatello was nodding, his eyes lighting up with the challenge. "Now go get some rest, Ann. I'll… get the um, test, tomorrow if you want. I'm sure April can pick it up."

"Ok. Thanks, Don."

"Anytime." The Turtle beamed. "I can't believe it. I'm gonna be an uncle again."

_And your brother's going to be a dad, _thought Ann, amused at her brother-in-law's enthusiasm. _And I'm going to be a _mom. Shivers ran down her spine. _What's Raph going to say? What am I going to do?_


	45. Chapter 44 Admission

**Chapter 44 **_**~Admission~**_

Hamato Austin shifted on the tatami mat, determined to quiet the turmoil inside so that she could reach the spiritual plane. She drew a deep, slow breath, willing her chi to settle into a peaceful flow, but she felt a bit as if a thunderstorm were brewing inside her heart. Michelangelo's over protectiveness was wearing on her nerves, and to make things more complicated, Skylar seemed to be teething. She was napping at the moment, thanks to some of Splinter's herbs. The mild remedy eased the baby's discomfort, allowing her to fall into a restless slumber. Michelangelo was back to work on his latest project.

Austin breathed deeply again, allowing her thoughts to settle on her husband. He'd been badly shaken by the kidnapping. She'd woken the night before to find him standing over Skylar's crib, watching the baby sleep, as if he were guarding her.

_He loves her,_ she reminded herself. _And no one knows as well as he and his brothers how difficult her life will be. All parents must strive to protect their children, but we have special challenges in our family. Still, he must remember that we have one another, that we are not alone in raising our daughter. _

Another deep, slow breath, and the mild irritation with her husband's behavior was replaced by understanding and an even deeper affection. Taking the time to understand why Michelangelo acted the way he did invariably eased the tension in her spirit. The exuberant Turtle could be difficult to live with at times, but Austin knew his heart was always in the right place.

Another deep breath, slowly released. The spiritual plane was close, she could feel its pull on her astral self. She leaned into the welcoming silence, allowing her mind to clear of her current worries. She was one with her ancestors, one with the quiet ebb and flow of the Universe as it lived and breathed. Deliberately, she reached out across the plane to her family, reconnecting with each of them in turn. Michelangelo's presence was, as always, the easiest for her to feel, warm as sunshine on her skin. Leonardo's was nearly as strong, calm, peaceful. She felt her brother-in-law's quiet psyche brush against her own and was reassured by his steady strength. Raphael's was there, too, with a masculine, mysterious presence, like the sharp scent of pines in a summer forest. His chi had intimidated Austin at first, but now she drew peace from his strength and unshakable loyalty. Donatello's presence was distracted, humming with his constantly focused attention. Last, Austin sought out her father-in-law, knowing he would be most aware of her. The others wouldn't have noticed her momentary attention, as if she'd passed through the room they were in so quietly they didn't know she was there, an impossible feat in the physical sense, but Splinter was aware on a different level, and his welcoming chi warmed her, enveloping her with the Rat's habitual affection and approval.

There was something else about Splinter though, a… distraction that rippled through Austin's peace as if someone had tossed a pebble into still water. Rather than try to pursue the source, she waited, allowing the answers to come to her as Splinter had taught her to do. Slowly, she became aware of a new scent mixing with Splinter's own.

Meeting the Rat in Astral form usually presented with a faint smell of tea and incense, but now Austin was aware of an undercurrent, a faint odor of… lotus blossoms. She came to herself with a gasp, losing all hold on her concentration.

_Aunt Luci!_

A chill touched Austin's arms as the spiritual plane retreated, and she once again became aware of the room around her, the flickering of the candles and the slightly sweet, sharp, grassy smell of the tatami mats mingling with the hot wax and faint candle smoke.

_Could it be true? Could I have been right, at dinner? They seemed so… interested in one another. I haven't seen Aunt Luci smile that way in years. And Splinter… well, he's polite to a fault with everyone, but he's been calling her by her first name. And they seem to be spending an awful lot of time together. I can't remember the last time I saw so much of him. Usually he hides in his room, meditating or painting. I wonder how the boys will feel. They're so protective of him. But Aunt Luci is the best, she really is. They'll just have to see that…_

Her train of thought was broken as the door to the dojo slid open and Donatello stuck his head into the room.

"Austin? Are you in here?" Don blinked when he saw her, sitting in a lotus position. "Oh, sorry Sis. I didn't mean to interrupt," he said. "Leo wants us all together for a meeting."

"It's ok Donny, I was just finishing up," she said, smiling. She got to her feet in one smooth motion, stretching to relieve the stiffness in her back and shoulders from sitting for so long. She joined her brother-in-law at the doorway. "What's going on?"

"We need to move on this warehouse thing," said Don, motioning for her to lead the way to the kitchen, where she could already hear the murmur of voices. "I have a bad feeling this time, Austin."

She glanced at his face. Donatello's usually-smooth brow was creased with worry.

"_Ani_, there's nothing Karai can cook up we can't handle," she said calmly, touching his forearm. "Leonardo will have a plan."

"He does. That's what's got me worried," quipped Don with a faint grin.

Austin followed her brother-in-law into the kitchen, chuckling softly.

"Donny, Austin, good. Leonardo glanced up from the paper spread out on the table. "Now, Austin's the thinnest, so she can slip in through the vent cover, here, after Don disables the alarm." He pointed at what Austin now recognized as a schematic of a warehouse.

"Wait, Fearless, I don't like the idea of Austin going topside," protested Michelangelo. "With all the PD's in the city looking for her…"

"Mikey," said Leo a shade impatiently. "Every gang member in the city is _always_ looking for us. Not to mention the Foot, random citizens and the NYPD. Austin only has the PD's and the Foot looking for her. She's safer going into this than we are. Of course, it's up to her if she wants to participate in the mission." He looked to Austin.

She nodded firmly. "I'm in."

"So Austin will go in through the roof vent, and we'll enter through the window, here, just like we did last time," continued Leonardo. "That way we'll be covering her while she scans the area from above."

"So ya t'ink we'll find some kinda evidence in da warehouse, Fearless?" asked Raphael.

"I hope so, Raph. Don's searches are only turning up more questions," answered Leo grimly. "All the evidence points toward a major counterfeiting operation."

"So da Foot're printin' their own money." Raph nodded. "Nice."

"It could be more complicated than that, Raph." Donatello spoke up. "Karai could flood the city with the phony bills and in theory at least, could devastate the local economy. The Federal Reserve regulates the flow of cash by printing only a certain number of bills every year, and recalling and destroying worn out money. A large influx of cash could crash the system, so to speak, interfering with interest rates, inflation… cheapening the value of the dollar. New York is a major economic sector. It could send the United States into serious recession."

"Why would she do that?" asked Austin, frowning.

Donatello shook his head. "She wouldn't have to carry it out to that extreme. There are a couple possibilities here. First, she could simply print herself a fortune. That seems pretty straightforward, and the risks are pretty high, so I doubt that's what she's doing. Second, she could set herself up as a controlling factor in the local economy, operating much the same way as the Reserve, using the flow of cash into the city's economy to create fluctuations in the stock exchange and local markets. Finally, she could prove that she has this kind of power to some key politicians, and intimidate them. She could conceivably gain some real political power, on both the state and national levels, operating behind the scenes, pulling key strings..."

Raphael whistled. "Guess we'd better throw a wrench in da works den, huh?"

"Yep." Donatello grinned, holding out a fist for his brother to bump.

Austin barely contained her eye roll. _Sierra's right. They really are a bunch of boys,_ she thought with a smile.

Truthfully, Austin was looking forward to the undertaking as much as her brothers-in-law. It wasn't often that the Clan's leader called on her to participate in one of their missions. He was nearly as protective as Michelangelo. Still, even Leo recognized her need to use her skills on occasion. She was willing to over look the fact that this should prove to be a simple scouting mission, and enjoy the chance to employ her training.

"It's settled then. We'll move out tomorrow night."

"Sounds good ta me, Fearless."

"Ok, Leo."

"On it."

Don and Raph filed out of the room, leaving Austin and Leo poring over the plans. After a moment's hesitation, Michelangelo left as well.

"So, you want me to be your look out from above, is that it?" asked Austin, leaning closer.

"Yes, pretty much," answered Leonardo. "That, and you're familiar with the Foot's techniques, the way they do things. You might see things in the warehouse we would miss."

Austin nodded, taking no offense at the reminder of her past as a Foot soldier.

"I'll do my best, Leonardo."

"That's all I ever ask." Leo straightened, stretching. "I think I'll see how Sierra's doing. She was having an awful time getting the ink off the bedspread."

Austin giggled in spite of herself. "Poor Sierra. It's a good thing those inks are charcoal based. It could've been really bad for her little pets."

Leonardo chuckled. "They look kind of different with the black all over them. Like furry little ninjas."

"I think they _are_ furry little ninjas," said Austin, grinning. "They're certainly agile enough."

"She gets so much pleasure from just watching them," said Leo with an easy smile.

"I'm sure."

"Good night, _imouto._"

"Good night, _ani._ Sleep well."

Austin studied the building's layout for a few more minutes, familiarizing herself with the placements of the exits, windows, and possible ambush points. She felt confident that the mission would come off without too much trouble. Leonardo's obsessive planning and Don's tech savvy usually meant they were prepared for any possibility going in.

Satisfied that she'd learned all she could from the plans, Austin moved out into the main room of the Lair. Everything was quiet for the moment. Reluctant to face Michelangelo and the inevitable argument, she turned impulsively toward her father-in-law's quarters.

"Splinter?" She tapped lightly on the bamboo door frame.

"Enter, _musume_."

Austin did as she was bade, sliding the door open gently and stepping inside. The familiar scents of candle wax and incense washed over her, warm and welcoming.

"Welcome, Daughter." Splinter smiled, looking up from the small table where he knelt. A parchment was laid out before him, his brushes to one side on their rest. He held an ink stone in his hand.

"I'm sorry, Splinter. I didn't realize you were busy," murmured Austin, bowing her head respectfully.

"You are not disturbing me, daughter," replied Splinter, beckoning for her to come into the room. "Your presence is always welcome."

"Thank you." Austin knelt, taking the traditional _seiza_ position before the table.

Splinter was adding the highlights to a painting of a koi swimming peacefully through clear blue water. A lotus flower floated, barely rippling the crystal surface. Austin imagined fancifully that if she were to lay her fingers against the parchment, they would come away dripping.

"Your talent never fails to amaze me, Sensei," said Austin, politely but with truth.

"I am honored, Austin-chan," said Splinter, bowing his head, but Austin saw a faint smile tug at his mouth.

"One who expresses his feelings so well with ink should have no trouble expressing them with words as well," mused Austin softly, half to herself.

Splinter's brush ceased its scratching as he paused in his stroke to look up at her with dark, unfathomable eyes.

"Indeed," he answered.

"Sensei, may I speak freely?" asked Austin, feeling the blush creep up her cheeks even as she met his gaze steadily.

"Of course, my child," said Splinter. His tone was calm as always, but Austin saw the tremor that traveled along his whiskers.

"Aunt Lucille," she began carefully. "Is a remarkable woman."

"It is obvious you are fond of your _oba-san_."

"I am. I am also very fond of my _ooto-san._" Austin smiled. "It would make me very happy," she said cautiously, "If two people I am so fond of found happiness in one another."

Splinter smiled in his most fatherly way. "You hope for your _oba-san_ and I to become friends?"

Austin nodded. "Perhaps more than friends," she suggested boldly.

Splinter went very still, his brush hovering over the ink stone.

"Forgive me, Father," said Austin softly. "But the way you two look at one another, I can't help but feel there is something there."

The silence stretched on for so long, Austin began to fear she'd offended him. Still, she kept her peace, allowing Splinter to answer in his own time.

"I… can not deny your observation, Daughter," he responded stiffly. He brushed his fingers over his whiskers as if to smooth them, a habit Austin had noticed when he was trying to formulate a response to her husband's unconventional antics in the dojo.

"Then you do have feelings for Aunt Luci?" Austin held her breath, knowing she was pushing her luck now.

Sure enough, there was a flash in his dark eyes as he glanced up at her, but rather than dismiss her, he nodded slowly. "It is not often, Daughter, that I have enjoyed such pleasant conversation with someone my own age."

"May I ask your intentions, Father?" Austin asked with all the respect she could muster.

"Intentions?" One eyebrow rose.

Austin blushed. "She is my aunt, _Ooto-san_," she replied quietly. _And I love you as well, _she thought.

"Do you wish to know if I intend to court your _oba-san_?" asked Splinter, giving nothing away in his calm tone.

Austin bowed her head in acknowledgment, fighting down her own embarrassment. She felt like a child who'd pried into her elders' affairs unbidden, but she knew she had every right to ask the question, as Lucille's only competent relative.

Splinter bowed his head with a sigh. "Austin-chan," he said quietly. "I enjoy Lucille-san's company very much, and I am honored that you consider such as myself a potential match, but I fear there can be nothing more than friendship between us."

Austin looked up, meeting his eyes, but hiding the way his words pierced her with disappointment.

"Then you don't…" She trailed off, aware suddenly of the line she'd been about to cross. "Forgive me, Sensei. I meant no disrespect."

"No offense has been given, Daughter," said Splinter. He smiled rather tiredly. "I am honored by your concern."

"I love you, Splinter," said Austin, throwing caution to the wind. "And I love Aunt Luci. I… I only wish for you both to be happy."

Splinter nodded. "Any father would be honored to have you as his daughter," he said gently.

"Any woman in her right mind would be honored to have you as a partner," said Austin, grief driving the words forth. "Even if you are afraid to admit you have feelings for her." She stood abruptly. "Forgive me, Sensei_._ I… I think I should go."

Splinter bowed his head in acknowledgment, dismissing her, and Austin left the room, determined that the matter was not at an end.


	46. Chapter 45 Contemplation

**Chapter 45 ~_Contemplation_**~

Splinter tied his _dogi_ headband carefully, determined to put the troubling thoughts left over from his conversation with his daughter-in-law out of his mind.

_Austin is young_, he told himself. _She sees all things as they should be, not as they are. _He tightened the knot on his _obi_ with a jerk. Picking up his walking stick, he headed toward the dojo.

"…and the princess, Hasehimi*, lived happily ever after."

Splinter glanced toward the couch, where Lucille was sitting. Despite his misgivings, he turned aside for a moment.

The woman was sitting comfortably against the back of the old couch as if she belonged there. Skylar was in her lap, her small cheek snuggled against her shoulder. Kouki was leaned back against her stomach, and Isamu occupied the other knee as if he belonged there. Luci's arms were around the children, holding the edges of a book cradled on her knees. As if she sensed the Rat's presence, she glanced over her shoulder, meeting his eyes with a smile that set his heart to racing.

"Austin loaned me this translation of Japanese fairy tales," she explained. "The children seem to enjoy hearing them."

"Luci read!" Isamu beamed. "Sp-inter read!"

Lucille laughed, a sound that caressed Splinter's ears like music over water. He flicked one, as if to rid himself of an insect.

"I believe Splinter is otherwise occupied at the moment, Isamu," said Lucille with a smile.

Splinter nodded, acknowledging her dismissal with a faint sense of dissatisfaction. Her expression faltered.

"Unless you'd _like_ to read with us, Splinter-san," she said softly, a faint lilt to her voice making it not-quite a question.

"_Doomo arigato, _Lucille-san," said Splinter with a smile, his slight irritation dissolving. "I must train. Another time, perhaps."

"Another time."

Was it his imagination, or did disappointment color her tone? He gave a single nod, and continued on his way, pushing down the nagging disquiet and striving to center his mind as he slipped into the dojo. Splinter bowed to the empty room, following the conventions out of habit even though he was alone. He took his stance, drew a deep, slow breath, and swung into the first set of his katas, stretching carefully before he began his next, more intense set.

Splinter barely paused, his whiskers twitching in irritation, as the door to the dojo slid open. He glanced over his shoulder, not even pausing in his exercise, as a figure moved into the room. Michelangelo took his bow, nodding to his Sensei before heading for the heavy punching bag. He drew a deep, slow breath before lighting into the bag with an intensity that rivaled Raphael.

For a few minutes, Splinter ignored his son's practice, though his curiosity was aroused. Rarely had he seen Michelangelo so focused. His brow creased as he pummeled the sand-filled bag with a series of movements so fast he was barely a green, brown and orange blur. Splinter paused in his own exercise to watch his son. Michelangelo spun, kicking the bag so it swung out a couple feet, then met the returning bag with a punch that shuddered through the chain.

Splinter waited until there was a pause in his son's relentless assault. Mike straightened, his breathing shallow and faster than normal. He glanced at his sensei, and drew a deep breath, obviously struggling to steady himself.

"Perhaps a spar would ease your spirit, my son."

Michelangelo stood straighter still, his blue eyes widening with surprise. He studied the Rat for a moment. Splinter kept his face calm, composed. Michelangelo nodded and gave him a crisp bow, stepping out onto the tatami mats and taking his stance. Splinter returned his son's bow and fell into his own stance easily. He waited, but Mike didn't attack right away, preferring to allow his sensei to lead the spar.

_All right, my son. If you wish it this way…_

Splinter felt a smile tug at his mouth as he lead with a quick strike, his fist meeting Michelangelo's plastron with a deliberately softened blow.

Michelangelo's response was quick and confident. He feinted left, striking out to the right with a punch that nearly caught Splinter off-guard.

"Good," said Splinter shortly, falling into the old habit of correcting and praising his sons while they sparred. In recent years he'd tried to refrain, but sometimes he couldn't help it. No matter how they towered over him, no matter how their voices deepened and their maturity grew, they would always be his sons.

"Watch your footwork," he admonished, striking out with a sweep. To his surprise, Michelangelo avoided his sweep, dodging to the left and returning with a blow that did catch him across the midriff. Splinter let the air whoosh from his lungs in a controlled breath out, drawing it back in almost immediately and rolling to one side to soften the strike. His fist shot out without conscious thought, just brushing his son's cheek as Mikey jerked his head to the side.

Splinter fell back a pace, regrouping. Familiar pride rose up in his chest. Certainly they were not fighting with every skill they possessed, but Michelangelo had improved over the years, as had all the Turtles. Any of them could _almost_ take their father in a spar, on a good day. If all four worked together, they might even be able to overpower the ninja master, with extreme good fortune and pressing need firing their determination.

Splinter allowed himself the faintest of smiles. He hoped the day would never come that his sons would need to use their skills against him. He'd read of elderly humans developing diseases of the mind which took away their ability to reason, and had long ago decided if it began to happen to him, he would not allow his body to out live his mind. He pushed the unpleasant thought away. His mind was as strong as ever. There was no use inviting trouble, although lately he'd been less sure of his own thoughts than ever before. The disquieting emotions that had plagued him recently flitted through his mind. He was distracted enough by the faint scent of lotus blossoms that his son's sweep caught him unaware and he flew backward, landing squarely on his shoulders.

"Sensei!" Michelangelo rushed forward, concern etched on his face. The rarity of one of his sons overcoming him in a spar was emphasized by the almost comical way Mike knelt at his Master's side, reaching for him cautiously as if he were fragile and prone to breaking.

Splinter caught his wrist, flipping the young Turtle onto his back.

"My son. You know better than to hesitate in a fight," he admonished lightly.

Mikey sat up, grinning. "Sorry, Sensei. I thought I really hurt you for a minute there."

"Deception is the ninja's tool," said Splinter mildly, though he'd never been in the habit of tricking his sons.

"I will remember, Sensei," said Michelangelo, giving a smart bow.

Splinter nodded, noticing his son's expression was once again care-free.

"You are feeling better, Michelangelo?" he asked.

Mike nodded, straightening. He went to the small bench and picked up two bottles of water, offering one to Splinter. The Rat nodded his thanks, accepting the bottle, though he'd always found their design a bit awkward.

"It was that obvious, huh?" Michelangelo glanced ruefully at his father.

"It was clear to me something was troubling your spirit," answered Splinter, taking a seat on the bench next to his son. Despite their work out, only a light sheen of sweat made the Turtle's skin glisten in the flickering candlelight.

"It's nothing, Sensei." Michelangelo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I mean…" He glanced at Splinter, who waited patiently. "It's just… Austin, ya know? I don't like her goin' topside, going on this mission." Michelangelo huffed quietly. "She won't listen to me."

"Do you fear she might be injured?" asked Splinter mildly.

Mikey shook his head. "Well, yeah," he admitted. "There's always that. I mean, I know she's trained and all, but I still don't like it."

"It was not easy for me to allow you and your brothers the freedom to explore the upper world," said Splinter carefully. "But I was aware that you would go with my blessing or without it. I chose to allow you to… grow up, as you say."

Michelangelo nodded. "I know. And I know some day Skylar's gonna wanna fight, too. How did you do it, Sensei? How'd you let us go topside?"

Splinter bowed his head. "I knew you were trained to the best of my ability," he said softly. "And still it was all I could do not to chase after you, to bring you back, to keep you forever safe below ground. Michelangelo, a lotus takes root in the darkness of still waters, but it grows upward, reaching toward the light, until it finds its way to the sun."

"So you're sayin' if I try to keep Austin underground, she's just gonna keep growin' away from me until she breaks the surface anyway?"

Splinter nodded.

"Huh. I guess you're right, Sensei. I can't hold her back, can I?" Michelangelo looked toward the dojo door sadly. "I just wanna keep her safe, you know? When I thought I'd lost her…" He shuddered.

"Perhaps you should discuss your concerns with Austin," said Splinter gently.

"You're right, Sensei," said Mikey. He grinned, his familiar jovial personality surfacing once again. "Thanks."

"You are most welcome, my son."

Splinter watched as his son left the dojo. Slowly, he stood up, stretching the muscles stiffened by his unexpected contact with the mat. He lit a long taper, replacing a candle that had burnt to a stub, and took a lotus position. He found it easier now, to center his spirit. Brown eyes danced into his thoughts, sparkling with laughter and good humor, and instead of ignoring the image, he focused on it, allowing his concentration to surround the woman who had so troubled his mind in recent days.

_Austin was right in her assumptions,_ he thought with a faint shock. _My feelings for Lucille are more than that of a friend. She is intelligent and kind, and so gentle with the children, yet her mind is strong. She surprises me, and she is pleasant to talk to. She would make an ideal life-mate… if only I were human._ Splinter homed in on the thought, tracing his emotions as if he were following a silvery thread. _I have never wished to be other than what I am_, he thought. _I have never before considered what my life might have been like if I'd been born human. The Fates have given me so many blessings. Even the loss of my first family was eased by finding the Turtles. How can I wish for more?_

And yet, the unsettled longing would not leave him alone. Splinter drew another deep, slow breath. _No life is promised_, he reminded himself. _A wise man keeps death always in his mind, considering the limited number of his days, so that he might choose each word and each deed carefully. Lucille-san is a fine woman. She deserves more… so much more, than a simple Rat has to offer. I, like my son, cannot hold her back._

The wrenching, tearing of emotion that accompanied the decision was a shock, but Splinter steadied himself with another deep breath.

_It is not as if she has been anything more than friendly. She is a remarkable woman, accepting us as her niece's family, but only an old fool would convince himself she thinks of us… of me, as anything more than her niece's protectors. We are most fortunate that she has accepted us, accepted Michelangelo's relationship with Austin. Soon she will conclude her business here and leave the city._

Splinter drew another calming breath and directed his thoughts toward other matters, ignoring the sharp nudge that rippled through him at the thought of Lucille's eventual departure.

_What must be done with Isamu?_ he thought. _Lucille was right, the longer he stays, the harder it will be for us to let him go. Donatello must find a place for the boy soon, or I fear parting with him will be too difficult._

Splinter resolved to speak with his son again regarding the boy's future. He ignored the nagging at the back of his mind, thoughts of another parting that might prove difficult, and snorted to remove the faint scent of lotus blossoms still lingering in his delicate nose. Leaning on his walking stick, he got to his feet and snuffed out the candles, breathing deep of the sharp scents of extinguished flame, watching sadly as the final wisps of smoke faded into the air.

With a sigh, he left the dojo and went to the kitchen to make a cup of tea.

_Life is full of comings and goings,_ he mused, pouring the water over the fragrant herbs. _A wise man understands the need to keep his hands open, to accept the blessings fate brings, and to let go as well. _

_

* * *

_**A/N: Hasehimi is a real Japanese fairy tale. I found it in a book titled "Japanese Fairy Tales" by Ozaki Yei Theodora. A little tip- You can download Amazon's Kindle software to your PC and read the free e-books from Amazon. That's where I got the Fairy Tales book, as well as many others. **

**Here is a link to a list of stories compiled by the same author, including the story Luci was reading: http : (double backslash) durendal (dot) org (backslash) jft **

**Sorry for the way I had to write out the URL but it's the only way to get it in past Fanfic's filters. :-p  
**


	47. Chapter 46 Infiltration

**Chapter 46 ~_Infiltration_**~

Raphael watched with pride as his sister-in-law disappeared through the vent. Even his ninja-trained hearing hadn't picked up a single sound as the human woman's steps whispered across the roof and she removed the vent cover. So far, the mission was going smoothly as silk.

_Jus' hope it keeps goin' good,_ thought Raph, fingering the hilt of his sai. _Da ol' Turtle luck usually don't hold out. Dis is almos' too easy. _

A glance toward his eldest brother told him he wasn't the only Turtle who felt uneasy in the unusual quiet. Leonardo seemed on edge, hyper-aware of their surroundings. His eyes flicked from Michelangelo to Donatello to Raphael, checking each brother in turn. He motioned, and Michelangelo led the way, scaling the fire escape so quickly Raph was sure he'd fall, but the orange-banded Turtle clung like a monkey, disappearing inside the building with only the faintest scrape of his shell against the window as he climbed through.

Leonardo gestured for the others to follow. Donatello nodded and beat Raph to the window by a hairsbreadth, but hesitated.

"Go ahead, Raph," he whispered. "Just watch your arm climbing in."

"I'm _fine_, Genius," hissed Raph, spinning a sai on his tightly-wrapped arm to prove his point. Nonetheless, he clambered through the window, trying to ignore the way his younger brother followed too closely. Leonardo came in last, his katanas already drawn.

"Spread out," he ordered under his breath. "Search for any sign of occupation. Be _careful_. It could be an ambush."

"We got it da first time, Fearless," shot back Raph in a whisper. He straightened on the catwalk, stretching out and deliberately moving a step away from Don, who seemed determined to remain glued to his shell. From above, Austin slid half-way down the pole they'd used to descend to the ground floor the first time they'd visited the warehouse. She waved, signaling the all-clear from her vantage point.

Raph let out a slow breath. So far, so good. _Jus' a waste of time,_ he thought, with no small relief. He was no fonder than Michelangelo of allowing Austin to place herself in danger, no matter how tame the mission seemed. He'd sparred often enough with the woman to have a solid respect for her skills, but he couldn't suppress the part of him that wanted to protect her from harm.

"Ok, Fearless. Looks like da place is empty," whispered Raph, half-turning to look toward his brother. He jumped as his elbow contacted something smooth and cool. He hadn't been _that_ close to the window… and scowled when Donatello took a step back, smiling sheepishly, and realized his arm had brushed his brother's plastron.

"Geez, Donny," he hissed.

"Sorry."

Leonardo shook his head.

"Come _on, _guys!" Mikey's urging had him turning again. Austin was already on the ground, stalking toward the few crates still stacked along one wall.

Without a thought for his injured arm, Raph launched himself off the catwalk, catching the pole and sliding down. The sharp pain that fizzed through his wrist reminded him an instant too late that his grip wasn't going to hold him, but his instincts saved him. His legs were wrapped around the pole, steadying his descent, before he gave the pain a conscious thought.

"RAPH!" Donatello flew off the catwalk, doing several flips in the air and landing with a _thud_ just as Raphael hit the ground. He turned to face his younger brother.

"What da _shell_, Donny! What were you t'inkin', jumpin' down like dat?" he yelled, waving his arms.

Donatello straightened at once, relieving Raph's initial fear that he may have injured himself.

"Sorry." Don had the grace to look sheepish. "Thought you were gonna fall. You ok, Raph?"

"I'm _fine_, Don," ground out Raph. "But yer actin' weird."

Leonardo landed lightly behind them.

"Not the time, you two." His voice was short with irritation. Raph could practically hear the vibrations of tension off him. Donatello glanced at his Leader with slight apprehension, as if dreading the impending lecture.

"Guys, we got empty crates. There's nothin' here," said Michelangelo, rejoining his brothers. Beside him, Austin nodded.

"Sorry, Leo. Mike's right. There's nothing. The crates are empty. They've moved out."

"There has to be _something_," responded Leonardo evenly. "Sometimes what's _not_ there can be as much a clue as what is. What's missing from the last time we were here? Austin, anything missing that _should_ be here?"

Austin shook her head, frowning. She turned slowly on one heel, scanning the space.

"Ok, if they were going to come back to this warehouse, they would've left security in place, to avoid having it bugged or put under surveillance while it's not in use," she said slowly. "But Don didn't find anything beyond a simple alarm, easily disarmed. It would've been a lot more secure. Chances are pretty good they don't plan to use this warehouse again."

"There was jus' crates, Fearless," said Raphael, crossing his arms over his plastron in irritation.

"Crates… of that weird paper you found, right Raph?" asked Leo.

"Yes. And Sensei said he smelled _ink_," remarked Donatello thoughtfully. "Leo, I think this may have been a stopping place, a temporary storage facility. They wouldn't have the operation in a place like this, so easily discovered. It's likely somewhere a lot more secure. Maybe in the Foot Tower itself."

Austin shook her head. "No. Karai wouldn't want something as hot as counterfeiting in the Tower," she said. "She'd have it set up somewhere she could deny any knowledge, as far from Oroku Saki's name as possible."

"That makes sense," said Don, nodding.

"So da place is abandoned. Not'in ta find. Can we get outta here now?"

Leonardo looked around, disgust showing clearly. "Yeah. We shouldn't hang around too long. Let's get back."

Austin went up the pole first, shimmying up as if she'd been born to climb. Michelangelo followed closely. Raph stood back, waiting for Don, but Donatello once again motioned for him to go first.

"What's crawled up your shell, Donny?" demanded Raph, his eyes going narrow behind his mask. It'd been a long, unproductive evening, and his brother's behavior was really starting to grate his nerves.

"Nothing, Raph. It's just that you're injured and I want to make sure nothing happens to you."

Something flickered in Donatello's brown eyes as Raphael watched. Raph stepped closer. "Donny…"

"Donatello." Leo put his hand on their younger brother's shoulder, facing him squarely. "You gave me your word you'd be honest from now on. Raph's right. You're acting strangely. What's going on?"

"N-nothing!" Don held up his hands as if in defense. "I swear, Leo…" His gaze flicked guiltily to Raph. "Well, something, but…" He shook his head. "I gave my word of honor not to tell. Yet."

"Donny…" Leonardo was glaring now.

"Leo, I swear, it's nothing like before," said Donatello. This time he met Leo's gaze steadily.

Leonardo stared at their brother for a full minute before he nodded reluctantly.

Raphael wasn't so easily convinced. "Spill, Genius. What's goin' on dat ya ain't tellin' us?"

"Raph, he said he gave his word," began Leonardo, but Raphael waved him off.

"I don't care if he swore on 'is life. He's actin' weird an' I wanna know why," growled Raph, taking an aggressive stance.

Don looked him in the face calmly. "Raph, I did swear." He hesitated. "Just… listen, Bro, when we get back… talk to Ann, ok? She can clear this up."

"Ann? What's my wife got ta do wit' dis?" Rage rose up, burning. "Ya were holdin' her hand da other day. Donny, I swear if ya weren't my bro…"

"No! No, no, no, Raph, it's _nothing_ like that!" Donatello shook his head. "I would never… Raph, how can you even _think_ like that? Ann would never… Just no."

"I know. Sorry, Bro," said Raph, contrite as quickly as he'd been angry. "Shell, Don, I… I'm sorry. Yer right. Ann would nevah… neither would you. Yer my bro." He forced a laugh.

Donatello gripped his shoulder, letting him know his momentary jealousy was forgiven.

"All right you two. Let's get out of here," said Leonardo, motioning to the pole. "We've spent enough time."

"Too much time, Bro!" Michelangelo hissed from above. "Someone's coming!"

Leo swore under his breath. "Vanish!"

Before the order was given, Raph was heading for the crates, the only cover in the vast room. Don was right behind him, but this time Raph hardly noticed. Leonardo vanished into a crevice nearby. They took positions facing away from one another instinctively, so that they could see all around.

The faintest scrape of metal against concrete gave way to a _creak_ of a hinge. A sliver of light appeared as the door swung open for a moment, then closed again as if by a phantom hand.

Raph drew his sai, the metal leaving the leather holders with barely a whisper. Leonardo, catching his eye, shook his head. Raphael scowled, but held his position, waiting.

"You're sure this time?"

Next to Raphael, Donatello started. He felt his purple-masked brother tense, and saw Don's hand go to his bo instinctively. Raph reached out, gripping his brother's shoulder. Don glanced at him and nodded, but kept his hand on his bo.

"I'm sure." The cocky voice carried clearly through the warehouse.

"That idiot, Rin has given us the key to the Turtle's destruction," hissed the first voice. "His obsession with finding his daughter will help us close the noose around their necks. If the woman is threatened, her daughter will come to the rescue. They stormed his home to retrieve her once. There is no reason to think they will not repeat their foolish rescue attempt… and when they do, we will be waiting."

"You don't want to be doing that, Dude." Michelangelo dropped to the ground, appearing from the darkness like an avenging angel, his nunchucks already whistling. "You touch my wife, _ever_, and you're gonna get more Turtle than you can handle!"

The man spun, facing Michelangelo with a drawn sword. Mikey dodged his feint easily, returning with a strike that _clanged_ against the metal.

"Foolish Turtle!" shrieked the man, circling. "I have a second chance at avenging my mistress' honor! Now I will finish what I began in the orphanage!" He lunged, but Michelangelo dodged to one side. The three brothers were out of their hiding places and approaching the battle before the man could raise another strike. Leonardo held up a hand to indicate they should let Mike face the man alone, for now. Michelangelo had initiated the battle, in defense of his wife. It was his fight.

Raphael stood tense, his sai in hand, ready to pounce if the man so much as brushed Michelangelo with his blade.

"Hi-_yah!_"

The familiar cry rang out, and Raph turned, ready to attack, but the second man was on the ground. A lithe figure stood over him.

"Way ta go, Austin," cheered Raphael. "But ya shoulda saved some fer da rest o' us!"

"Sorry, Raph." Austin's white teeth flashed in the dim light. "I owed this guy one." She kicked the prone, unresponsive form. "He threatened Skylar."

"Dese are da guys who took ya?" Raph didn't need to hear any more. He rushed forward, intent on joining the battle.

"Raph, no!" Donatello's cry was drowned out by Michelangelo's roar of rage. He rushed at the man.

"Michelangelo!" Leonardo surged forward, but Mikey crashed into the black-clad soldier, throwing the man violently back against the crates they'd been hiding behind. The resulting crash seemed to shake the very walls of the building. Raph found himself choking from the dust that rose up.

"Mikey!" He rushed forward, still coughing, only to find his brother picking himself up from the ruins of the wooden crates.

"Don't mess with my family, Dude." Michelangelo brushed himself off, tucking his nunchucks carefully back into his belt. "You ok, Austin?"

"I'm fine, Mike."

"Is he…?" Donatello approached cautiously.

"I don't know," said Mikey, his tone flat. He turned away.

"Guys, we've got to get out of here," said Leonardo suddenly. Voices in the alley had them all freezing and reaching for their weapons.

"_It came from in there… Dispatch, this is NYPD 343… Responding to a suspicious noise inside a building on the corner of 14th and Eerie… do you copy?"_

"Cops. Disappear." Leonardo didn't need to give the order twice. By the time the officer cautiously pushed the door open, five ninjas had long vanished into the night.


	48. Chapter 47 Debriefing

**Chapter 47 ~_Debriefing_**~

Leonardo drew deep, calming breathes as he ran across the rooftops. His brothers and Austin were spread out on either side, and he kept slightly back so he could keep them all in sight. It wasn't that he didn't trust in their ability to get back to the Lair unseen. It was just that he didn't trust Fate not to throw one more thing at them, as a final hurrah, before the evening was over.

_It couldn't have gone worse,_ he thought. _Of all the undisciplined, boneheaded moves… If he weren't wearing an orange mask, I would've sworn it was Raphael who jumped into the middle of that. What if he'd been armed with more than a sword? What if one of them had a gun? Still… I suppose if it had been Sierra who'd been taken, I might've done the same thing._

He blew out a sigh, glancing toward his youngest brother. He noticed Michelangelo was sticking close to Austin, but he usually did when they were out on patrol. All the boys were protective of the humans in their lives, especially so of their own wives and sisters-in-law.

Before long, the little group had returned to the sewers, and some of the aching tension eased in Leonardo. He rolled his shoulders to release the strain, and caught Raphael watching him. Raph gave him a habitual smirk, and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Hey, Fearless. It weren't dat bad. We're all here. Nobody's hurt worse dan we was before, and Mikey…" He lowered his voice. "I woulda got 'im if Mikey hadn't, Leo."

"I know, Raph." Leonardo shook his head. "That doesn't alter the fact that he jumped in without knowing the situation…"

"Hey. I ain't sayin' he was right," retorted Raph, a slight growl creeping into his voice. "I wanna kick his shell too, for bein' a bonehead. Jus' sayin' if it was my girl, I'da done da same."

Leonardo nodded. He knew. Still, the family never killed unless they had to.

_Was Mikey justified?_ wondered Leo. _At what point does justice become simple revenge? If we kill everyone who threatens our family, we'd have to wipe out the entire city of New York. Nearly every human in the place is a threat to us in some way. We've always protected this city. I don't want us to become some kind of avenging vigilantes, using deadly force unnecessarily.  
_

Stepping into the Lair, he felt the familiar fission of warmth and peace. No matter what happened outside those stone walls, here his family was safe. As safe as they ever were, anywhere. The door had no more than ground its way shut before Beverly appeared from upstairs, coming down the stairs without overt haste, her eyes flicking from one to another, checking for injuries. Leonardo smiled. In her own way, she fussed over them more than Donny. Apparently satisfied, she smiled, coming forward.

"Good night?" she asked, directing the question to all of them, though her eyes were on Donatello.

"Not so much," murmured Don, wrapping an arm around her waist and drawing her close.

Beverly leaned in to kiss him, but then pulled back, her face scrunching. "You're all dusty," she complained.

"Sorry. Warehouses are like that," said Don with a smile.

"Well go shower, for goodnesakes," scolded Bev with a grin.

Donatello glanced at Leo. "Debriefing first, I think," he said.

Bev's eyebrow rose, but she nodded. "All right. Leave him in one piece, ok Leo? I may have use for him still," she said lightly.

"Don't worry, Bev. Donny's not the only bonehead tonight. There's plenty of yelling to go around." Michelangelo spoke up, with a forced grin.

"It must've been quite a night," said Sierra, coming out of the kitchen so quietly Beverly turned, startled at her voice. "Why don't you come to the kitchen, _shujin_?" she suggested gently. Leonardo glanced at his younger brothers. Don returned his gaze somewhat sheepishly. Michelangelo looked back, defiant, for a moment, before looking away. Coming to a decision, Leonardo nodded.

"_Doomo arigoto,_ Sierra," he answered softly. He longed to brush her dark hair back from her eyes, to draw her close and lean in for a kiss as easily as Donatello had done with Beverly, but discipline demanded self control, for the moment. He would express his affection for his wife later, when they were alone. Right now he had brothers to deal with.

Sierra nodded, resting her hand on his forearm for a moment before returning to the kitchen. Leo had to contain a shiver. The look she'd given him was full of such understanding, a smile tugged at his mouth in spite of his efforts to keep a stern face. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Michelangelo and Donatello exchange glances.

_Don't think you're getting out of trouble that easily, little brothers,_ he thought grimly. _We still have to figure out exactly what went wrong back there and how to keep it from happening in the future._

Don, Mikey and Austin headed toward the kitchen. Austin hooked one arm through her husband's elbow as they walked. Mike started, then snaked his arm around her waist. Raphael snorted, but Leo noticed the longing in the way his gaze wandered toward the stairs.

"Let's get this over wit', Fearless," he muttered, striding toward the kitchen.

Leo nodded, following his brothers.

The little family settled around the table. Sierra had laid out a platter of sandwiches, and occupied herself pouring tea and coffee. She fetched a can of soda and a bottle of water from the refrigerator, tossing one to Mikey, the other to Raphael, with a smile. She gestured toward the fridge, looking at Austin for her choice. Austin grinned.

"That's ok, Sis. I can get my own."

Sierra grinned. "I don't mind. You guys worked hard tonight."

"_Doomo arigato,_" murmured Leonardo as she set a cup of tea in front of him. "You know you don't have to…"

"I know." She rested a hand on his shoulder a moment before retreating. "I'll leave you to your… debriefing." Sierra smiled and slipped out of the room.

"Your wife's awesome," said Michelangelo, grabbing a sandwich. He glanced at Austin. "I mean, not as awesome as _mine_, but still…"

Austin just shook her head, twisting the cap off a bottle of water. "Ok, _ane._ Let's hear it."

Leonardo took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

"Well, it wasn't a total disaster," he allowed, gazing around the table. "We all made it back safely. But what did we learn?"

"Not'in." Raphael shook his head. "It was a total waste o' time."

"Not a total waste," Mike spoke up grimly. "We took down Masaru."

"Mikey, you shouldn't have… wait, what? Who?" Leonardo sank back in his chair, momentarily shocked out of scolding.

"That was Masaru, Leo," said Don. "Karai's second in command. The one who attacked Isamu."

Michelangelo nodded, taking a bite of his sandwich.

"Who was da other goon?" asked Raph, glaring at his younger brothers.

"A Purple Dragon," answered Austin. "He was one of the ones who snatched us from the park." She scowled.

"Shell."

Leonardo almost smiled. Raph had summed up his thoughts pretty concisely.

"Nonetheless," he said firmly, "Mike, that was reckless and dangerous…" Blue eyes met his defiantly. Leonardo sighed. "And I understand why you did it. Just remember, Mikey, you're part of a _team_."

Michelangelo's gaze wavered, and he nodded. "I get it Leo. Sorry."

Leonardo waved off the apology. "Moving forward. Donny, do we have any new information?"

"Well," said Donatello slowly. "We know that Masaru was definitely working with the Purple Dragons. Of course, we already knew the Foot and Dragons were connected, but he didn't want Karai to find out what he was up to."

"Yeah. Otherwise, why'd he meet his contact in dat ol' warehouse?" Raphael scowled. "But we _still_ don't know why da Foot'd team up wit' dem scumbags."

"I'd say it's a distraction," said Austin slowly. She licked a bit of mayonnaise off her finger. Leonardo barely contained his eye-roll at the way Michelangelo stared.

_Talk about a distraction._

"What do you mean, Austin?" he asked, ignoring his youngest brother for the moment.

"Well, if we're all busy fighting the PD and Foot attacks, she's free to pursue whatever she's doing with the counterfeiting, right?"

"Speakin' o' distractions, what was he sayin' about Rin?" Raphael growled. "It sounded like he was plannin' ta use Austin's ma ta set a trap. What're we gonna do about dat, Fearless?"

Leonardo drew a deep breath, looking toward Austin. She looked back, impassive, but Leonardo knew his sister-in-law better than that.

_This has to be tearing her up._

"Well, if Masaru is out of the way…"

"We didn't have time to check, Leo," said Don quietly. "We don't know how badly he was injured or if he…"

Leonardo nodded, glancing at Michelangelo.

Mikey's expression was calm. "I hit 'im hard, Leo, but I don't know if he was breathing when I got up. We had to get out of there so fast, there wasn't time to make sure."

Leonardo nodded. "Mike, I understand how you feel, I do, but we've got to keep sight of our purpose here."

"My purpose is to protect my family, Fearless," responded Mikey. "I didn't mean to kill him, but if I did, I'm not sorry."

"I understand, Bro," said Leo. "Just remember, we're a _team_. You could've been hurt."

"The court hearing is tomorrow," Austin interrupted quietly. "If Ann and Aunt Luci can convince the judge that Mother is competent to make her own decisions regarding her care, Aunt Luci can take her out of New York, and hopefully out of the Foot's immediate reach."

"Ok. In the meantime, we'll post a guard at the hospital," said Leonardo.

"During the daytime?" Austin's head snapped up. "Leo, that's way too dangerous."

"Prevention is better than…"

"Leo, it's not necessary." Donatello broke in. "First of all, hospital security is already aware that Mrs. Abramson could be at risk. They've got guards posted at her door already. Second, Beverly can keep a close eye on her and call us if anything happens."

"And third, Karai didn't authorize his plan," said Austin firmly. "Or he wouldn't have been plotting in a warehouse."

"Ok, ok." Leonardo held up his hands. "But I think we should see if Bev can slip a tracker onto her person. That way if everything goes wrong and she _does_ get snatched, at least we'll have a way to find her."

Austin nodded, relief showing in her small smile.

"Is dat it den? Can we go now?" Raphael pushed his chair back, twisting to toss his empty water bottle into the recycle bin.

Leonardo nodded. Raphael didn't need any further dismissal. He was out of the room before the others could stand.

"Are you going to tell me what was going on between you and Raph now, Donatello?" asked Leo. He saw his younger brother's shoulders hunch slightly, but when Don turned to face him, it was with an easy smile.

"Trust me, Leo. You'll find out soon enough. Umm, I think I should get to work tracking Karai, don't you?"

"All right." Leonardo nodded.

Don hesitated for a moment before following Michelangelo and Austin. "Leo, I um… Well you saw the hit that guy took. I think it's safe to assume that Masaru's out of the picture, at least for the time being, if not permanently. I guess it would be safe… for Isamu…"

Understanding dawned on Leonardo. "The threat to his life is gone. He can be returned to the surface." He swallowed against the unexpected lump that formed in his throat. "I… guess you'd better call April. Make the arrangements."

Don nodded. "I guess."

_It's for the best,_ Leo told himself, trying to ignore the sharp pang of regret. _The boy belongs with his own kind, where he can have a future, a chance. He'll be ok. We'll all be ok. We can handle this. We can handle anything, like we always have. _


	49. Chapter 48 Painting

**Chapter 48 ~_Painting_~**

Splinter moved his brush in a careful twist, lifting the koi fish's fin so that it flowed with the water. He sighed. The painting was finished. The flower laid delicately on the water, the fish seemed almost to move below, as if it would swim out of the painting and out into the larger ocean. Their silent dance was frozen in time, a moment captured in ink and paper. Splinter allowed himself the smallest nod of satisfaction, knowing the painting was one of the best he'd done.

A faint tap on the door made his whiskers twitch as he looked up. The moments of satisfaction upon completing a painting were fleeting and precious, and he disliked being interrupted, but he stifled the irritation. He rarely refused his sons entry when they sought out his company.

"Enter."

To his surprise, the hand that pushed the screen carefully aside was not green. The delicate human fingers were soft, slender, and did not belong to any of his daughters. Splinter's breath caught as the woman was revealed. Lucille gave him a shy smile.

"_Konbanwa_, Splinter-san," she said softly.

"Good evening, Lucille," he responded automatically. He got to his feet, giving her a small bow of welcome. "What may I do for you?"

"Oh, nothing really." A faint flush crept up the woman's cheeks. "I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Not at all."

"Oh, but you _are_ busy," she said, her gaze landing on the painting. "I shouldn't bother you." She half-turned toward the door.

"I have finished," he said quickly. Despite his assertion to Austin, the woman's company was pleasant and welcome. "Please, Lucille-san, come in."

"If you're sure."

Splinter looked up, meeting the uncertain brown eyes. A pleasurable shock, rather like electricity, ran through him, making his fur feel as if it were rippling under his robe. The woman hesitated only a moment before moving into the room.

"I… I'm sorry to disturb you this way," she murmured. "I just… Everyone's so busy, and I didn't want to be a nuisance. I thought… well, to be honest, Splinter, I enjoy my niece's company so much, and your family's too, of course, but…" She smiled, meeting his eyes again. "Sometimes it's nice to talk to someone my own age."

Splinter nodded. "Lucille-san," he said carefully. "I will be thirty eight years old next spring."

She did a double-take, her mouth falling open in shock. "I… I'm sorry, Splinter. I thought… I mean, your boys are in their thirties, aren't they? I just assumed…"

Splinter chuckled. "It has been thirty-six years since my sons and I changed." He smiled at the confused look she gave him. "Forgive me, Lucille. Your assumption is correct. I am much older than my sons in every sense but the physical. At two, I was an adult when we were mutated, while they were infants."

"So, as a normal rat you were two years old? But the mutation seems to have given you a more human lifespan."

"Yes." Splinter nodded. "Donatello informs me I may live as long as an average human. By his estimation, my age now, if I were human, would be close to sixty years."

"It's fascinating," said Lucille. "I'm fifty-seven." Her smile was cautious as she came closer, kneeling not far from where he sat. "You and your sons are truly unique."

Splinter nodded. "The fates have been kind." Something like anxiety made his stomach squirm. _It is best that she sees us for what we are. We are not human,_ he thought. I_ am not human. I must not attempt to engage her affections._

Lucille was studying him, her brown-eyed gaze steady on his face. "It seems to me," she said slowly. "That you and your sons are an enigma. You've avoided human society, yet you've established relationships, even taken wives into your family."

Splinter nodded. "We have been most fortunate," he murmured.

Her chuckle startled him. "You speak as if _you_ are the lucky ones, Splinter," she said, smiling. "I'd say this city are the benefactors of your existence, not to mention your son's wives. Splinter, I consider myself fortunate, to have met you all. Believe me, _we_ are the lucky ones."

"_Doomo arigatoo,_ Lucille-san," said Splinter automatically, bowing his head.

Her fingertips brushing his wrist startled him into looking up. Luci was watching him with soft brown eyes and a faint smile. At his sharp glance, she took her hand back, a faint flush staining her cheeks.

"Where did you learn to paint?" she asked, gesturing toward the parchment still drying on the low table. "This is lovely."

"In the past year, Sierra has been teaching me new techniques, but I began by watching Tang Shen," said Splinter softly.

Lucille glanced at him, questioning.

"The love of my master Yoshi's life," he elaborated.

"I see. Hamato Yoshi." Lucille nodded. "Austin told me a bit about your past life," she said softly. "I'm very sorry for your loss, Splinter."

He nodded, acknowledging her compassion. "Thank you, Lucille-san."

"Would you… I mean, if you don't mind… can you tell me a little about them?"

Splinter looked at her. Luci was watching him curiously, a smile crinkling the corner of her eyes. "What was it like, living in Japan?" Her smile faltered. "I mean, if you don't mind me asking. Do you remember?"

Splinter nodded slowly. "I do." A faint smile tugged at his mouth. It wasn't often that anyone wanted to hear the stories of his past.

He settled himself more comfortably on the mat. "My memories of that time are… not clear," he said. Lucille nodded, watching him as if waiting for more. "I remember… hunger. Always seeking warmth, shelter, food…" He paused. "I had little thought for anything beyond survival… until I met Tang Shen."

Lucille shifted on the tatami mat, but kept silent. Splinter noticed the way her hands rested on her knees, her neatly clipped nails brushed with a soft pink color. The skin on her hands was slightly wavy, but looked smooth, soft. He repressed an urge to reach out, to run a finger across the back of her knuckles. He cleared his throat, gathering his thoughts.

"I went into the kitchen to seek nothing more than a bit of _kabu_," he said. "I sensed that the human cutting the vegetables was not a threat. I did not sense Mashimi's presence, until I heard the whistle of his sword. Had Tang Shen not intervened…" He let the thought trail off.

"Thank heavens she did," breathed Lucille. She gestured. "Please, continue, Splinter."

He smiled. "I will always be grateful for her kindness," he said. From then on, Tang Shen was my protector, my provider. I was with her always… her and Yoshi. He was often at her side. Those were happy times."

Lucille nodded sadly. "Austin told me how she died. I'm so sorry."

Splinter bowed his head. "Yes."

"And then you came to New York with Yoshi. Austin said he was a Guardian, but wouldn't tell me much else, just that an old rival, Oroku Saki, murdered him. Was he related to Karai Oroku? Of Oroku Industries?"

Splinter nodded. "She was his daughter," he said quietly. "She blames us for her father's destruction."

"So that's why Leonardo was so upset by Isamu's presence." Lucille nodded. "He told me he's worried about how she'd react to finding out the boy was with your family. Blood lines are so important in Japanese culture."

"Yes," said Splinter quietly. "Donatello was fascinated with the concept of adoption when he was young. He informed me once that there are fewer than 600 adoptions outside of immediate family each year in Japan. Children with living relatives are sometimes left in orphanages because even if the family cannot take them in themselves, they refuse to allow them to be raised by those who are not related by blood. Donatello wanted to know if I would ever allow him and his brothers to be adopted by humans."

Lucille chuckled. "He must have been an interesting child," she said.

"My sons were… a challenge, to raise," acknowledged Splinter dryly. "Each has their own unique abilities and presented special challenges."

"I'm sure." Lucille smiled. "They work so well as a team."

"Our survival depends upon it," he said.

Lucille looked at him. "It's easy to forget," she said slowly, "When I'm sitting here with you, that you're a warrior, by choice as well as necessity. Seeing Raphael fight those men before, it was… informative. He's so gentle with the children, and yet…"

Splinter nodded. "My sons do what they must to defend themselves and those who need protection."

The woman's eyes wandered back to the painting. "The more I get to know you, Splinter, the more I think I know so little after all. It's difficult to understand how the hand that created such beauty could be deadly."

Splinter tried to shrug off the warm glow her praise sparked in him. "The art of ninjitsu is as much knowing when _not_ to strike as to destroy one's opponent," he said.

"'Nothing is so strong as gentleness, nothing so gentle as real strength,'" said Lucille. "Saint Francis."

A smile tugged at Splinter's mouth. _She continually amazes me._ "Lao Tzu said that 'nothing in the world is more flexible and yielding than water.'"

Lucille nodded. "'And when it attacks the firm and the strong, none can withstand it, because they have no way to change it.'"

Splinter went still, startled. "You are familiar with Lao Tzu?"

"I've read a bit of The Book of the Way," said Lucille. "He was a fascinating thinker."

"Indeed."

They sat for a moment in companionable silence.

"Do you think, perhaps, that you could teach me a bit?" Lucille asked.

"Teach you, Lucille-san?" Splinter's eyebrows rose.

"To paint." Lucille gestured toward the painting. She looked at him, her eyes searching. "That is, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

"Not at all, Lucille-san." Splinter smiled. "But I fear there is not time for you to learn more than a few basic strokes."

"Oh, that's all right," she said. Her eyes lit up with delight. "I love learning new things."

Splinter returned her smile. He couldn't help it, her quiet enthusiasm was infectious. He lifted parchment carefully, laying it aside, and fetched a fresh sheet from his supply.

"The ink stick must be ground upon this stone," he said, making a few careful circles. "Then a few drops of water make the powder into ink…" he demonstrated, dipping the brush carefully into the color. "If there was more time, I would teach you to mix the inks, but for now…" he moved the brush carefully across the parchment, creating the shape of a petal. Several more strokes, and a delicate flower appeared. Splinter had found, when his sons were small, that sometimes showing them the finished product lent them motivation for learning each tedious step of a new lesson.

Lucille leaned close, watching his hand move. "That's amazing."

"Perhaps you would like to try, Lucille-san?"

Splinter held out the brush. The pleasant electricity seemed to run along his arm from where her fingertips brushed his as she took the brush. She frowned in concentration. "The way you held the brush," she murmured, moving it in her hand. "I can't quite…"

"Let me help you." He took her hand in his own, positioning the brush correctly in her fingers, trying to ignore the hyper-aware sensations of her nearness, the scent of her hair as it brushed his shoulder. He guided her hand carefully. Her application was slightly clumsy, but the petals grew, and in a few strokes she'd approximated his flower.

"Well done, Lucille-san," he said quietly, falling into the old habits of teaching. _Early praise encourages new growth._

"It's nothing like yours," she said softly. "I can see I need a lot of practice to get the technique right."

Splinter watched as she tried the basic stroke again. She made a short row of marks across the bottom of the parchment, getting a feel for the way the brush moved across the paper. When it grew too dry, she dipped it in the ink again, picking up far too much of the dark liquid, and frowned when her next mark was nothing but a black line.

"Oh dear. This isn't as easy as you make it look," she said ruefully.

Splinter chuckled. "Skill comes with repetition."

"I'd like to keep trying, if you don't mind," she said, glancing at him.

"Not at all, Lucille-san," he responded easily. He smiled, watching the way a slight frown of concentration creased her brow, the way her mouth quirked up at the side. She was immersed, focused on the parchment. He could _feel_ her determination.

_She is so much like Donatello when he was very young. He, too, was consumed with the task of learning new techniques in writing and in art. It did not come as naturally to him as it did to Michelangelo. Still, his determination has proven valuable. He is never easily dissuaded, a trait that has served him well. _

Lucille looked up suddenly, as if she'd felt him watching her. "How's that?" she gestured toward the marks she'd made on the paper.

"You are improving already," he said, approving.

"You are a very good teacher." She smiled, an easy, natural expression. "You must think me so foolish," she said.

Splinter glanced at her, puzzled. "Why?"

"Getting so excited to learn a simple thing like painting," she said, shaking her head self-deprecatingly. Still, the smile remained. "I've always loved learning."

"'What you think you become,'" quoted Splinter. "To live is to grow, Lucille-san. When we stop learning, we stop growing. We stop living."

Luci nodded, her smile growing. She sat back, and reached up to brush a stray curl away from her forehead. Splinter caught her wrist before she could touch her face. She went still.

"Forgive me, Lucille-san," he murmured. "Your hand…"

He released her wrist, and she looked at her fingers and laughed. "Oh dear." Her finger tips were black with ink.

Splinter reached up, brushing the hair behind her ear. Lucille smiled.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

"You are welcome."

* * *

**A/N: The events Splinter relates when he talks about his past are from the episode _Tales of Master Yoshi_. **


	50. Chapter 49 Gone

******Chapter 49 ~_Gone~_**

Beverly sighed, smoothing her husband's spare mask and folding it neatly over one hand, the way she'd seen Don do it a thousand times, before tucking it into the drawer.

_Was it only two days ago, Isamu was wearing it around his head, running around playing "Super Turtle"? And Don laughed so hard… It won't be long, I suppose, before our own son is playing those hero games. Things change so fast._

"Bev?" Don's melting-caramel voice had her turning, blinking away the tears even as she slid the drawer closed. "Are you ok, Hon?" He crossed the room, coming closer. She held out her arms and he stepped into her embrace, wrapping strong arms around her waist. She leaned her cheek against his collarbone and nuzzled against his neck.

"I love you, _ittoshi,_" she whispered against his skin.

"I love you too. Hey, are you ok?" His hand came up, brushing the back of her head comfortingly. "You've been really quiet since…"

"Since Isamu left?" She straightened to look into his brown eyes, her breath catching at the momentary flash of grief at the mention of the boy's name.

"Yes. You know, April says he's in a really good… situation. She met the foster parents. They're… nice, she said. Experienced. They've been doing this a long time…"

"I know." Beverly nodded. "It's just that it all happened so fast. I miss him," she admitted.

"Me, too. But it's better this way."

Kouki chose that moment to whimper in his sleep, shifting on the crib mattress behind the couple. Don turned, going to the crib and laying a hand on the baby's shell.

"Hush, little guy. Daddy's here," he whispered tenderly. Kouki drew a shuddering breath and let it out with a faint, contented sigh.

Beverly crossed the small space and laid her hand on Don's shoulder, leaning forward to gaze at her sleeping son.

"You're a good father, Hamato Donatello," she said softly.

He straightened, turning. "And you're an amazing mom, Beverly Hamato," he whispered, slanting his mouth over hers. Beverly returned the kiss, surprised at the hunger she felt from Don, the way he clung to her. When he broke the kiss, his eyes were haunted. "Don't ever leave me, Beverly," he whispered, so softly she almost didn't hear.

"Never."

"Don't you… um, have to testify at the hearing?" he asked, steadying his voice with an effort.

Beverly nodded, allowing Don a moment to compose himself. She knew how he hated to let her see him upset.

"Yes. Ann and I will go topside soon. The hearing is at one. It shouldn't take long."

"Ann's worked so hard on this case."

"She has a great chance of winning," said Beverly. "Thanks to your work, too, don't forget. You helped her with the research."

"Well she… should be resting," said Donatello carefully.

Beverly almost smiled. _You really think you're hiding something from me?_ she thought._ I'm a nurse, as well as a _woman_. I suspect you know perfectly well what's wrong with Ann. I just wish she'd get on with telling Raphael so we can all stop avoiding the subject. _

"We'll drop Lucille off at the hotel. She and Austin will take a cab from there. Ann and I will arrive separately as well."

"Why?"

"Well, we don't want Rin's lawyer to catch on to our relationships," responded Beverly. "He might be able to use my being Austin's sister-in-law against Ann. Anyway, with luck I won't have to testify at all. Elizabeth, the shift supervisor, is the one Ann will call on."

"What if they call you to testify? You can't lie under oath," said Don, frowning.

"Of course not. But this isn't like a trial where a lawyer can call witnesses," explained Bev. "It's more like a meeting with the judge, where each side will have a chance to present their evidence. Don't worry, Donny. We're going to be fine."

"I know," said Don with a sigh. "I'm just worried about Austin, you know? This is her _mom_."

"And Ann's going to make sure she's safe."

"Good luck."

"Thank you. I'd better get going."

"Bev?"

"Yes?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, Donny."

Bev slipped out of the room, leaving Don to guard over their sleeping son.

_He's been hovering over Kouki a lot lately_, she thought. _Since Isamu left…_ A sharp pain lanced through her and she quickly turned her thoughts away from that path. _After all we've witnessed recently, with the Foot and the PD's joining forces… I guess Donny is right. I can't fight him any longer. Kouki will need at least basic self-defense training. As to more… well, we'll see. Don promised not to force anything on him. I do trust him to keep his word._

As Beverly descended the stairs, she saw Skylar wobble her way across the living area, laughing as she fell into her father's waiting arms. Michelangelo swung the baby up.

"Great job, Sky!" He praised, grinning as the tot giggled hysterically.

_I guess if he's going to learn, he couldn't have better teachers,_ thought Bev. She couldn't help smiling. Michelangelo was so obviously in love with his daughter, as Donatello was with his son. All the Turtles had surprised her with their fierce affection for the children.

"Are you about ready, Bev… Oh, there you are." Ann stepped out onto the balcony. "Austin went on ahead with Lucille. Raph's going to escort us." She smiled. "He seems to think I can't walk a few blocks on my own."

"I jus' wanna make sure ya get there safe, Annie," growled Raphael, materializing out of the shadows behind her.

She turned, smiling a bit tightly. "Come on. Let's get going."

Beverly nodded. "Yeah, we don't want to be late," she said with a forced smile. Raph and Ann had seemed on edge recently.

_He knows something's up with her. He's _got_ to. You really can't hide things from our boys. I wish I could understand why she's trying. I remember how nervous I was when I first found I was pregnant with Kouki, but then I was also trapped in Bishop's lab. I was afraid Donny wouldn't be happy, too. I guess Ann needs to tell him in her own good time. _

Another door opened upstairs, and Leonardo stepped out onto the balcony. "You're leaving?" he asked.

"Yep." Raphael flipped over the railing, landing lightly, as if the ten-foot drop were nothing.

"Just be careful. And Ann… Good luck."

Ann nodded. "Thanks, Leo."

Beverly shook her head. _Everyone's been so… grim, since Isamu left. Leo rarely smiles, Raph's being more surly than usual, Sierra's holed up in her room… and if we have a good outcome today, Lucille will probably go back to New Jersey._ She sighed.

Raphael motioned for the girls to precede him out the door. Beverly hung back a bit, moving aside to let Raphael walk beside Ann, but she stubbornly took up a place on Beverly's other side, as if using the woman as a shield against her own husband.

When they reached the first manhole, Raph climbed the ladder, moving the heavy cover aside and checking to be sure the way was clear before dropping back down. Ann gave him a quick kiss before climbing the ladder and disappearing from sight.

He lifted the cover back into place and dropped down again. He and Bev walked a few more blocks to the next cover in silence.

_Sorry, Raphael. I can't tell you if she won't. If anyone breaks the news, it'll have to be Donny.  
_

Raph lifted the second as easily as the first.

"Thanks, Raph," said Beverly.

"Good luck," he answered.

"Thanks. We're gonna need it."

* * *

The hearing took even less time than Beverly had anticipated. She spent most of her time surreptitiously studying an imposing Japanese businessman.

_So that's Austin's father. I wonder if he's ever smiled. Well, he'd better not bother Austin, or he'll have to answer to _me.

Almost as if he could feel Beverly's glare, Rin Abramson glanced over his shoulder at the woman. She met his eyes steadily, and he was the first to look away with a faint snort of derision that made Beverly want to clout him over the back of the head with something heavy. Preferably one of the law books her sister-in-law and husband had been poring over for weeks in an effort to defeat him.

It wasn't until the judge handed down her verdict that Beverly got a true feel for the man's personality. She watched, fascinated, as the back of his neck turned red. He stood stiffly, and made a short, clipped bow to the judge.

"You will regret this," he hissed, turning and stalking from the room, pausing only to glare at his daughter for an instant. Bev noticed with pride the way Austin returned his look, unflinching, before he turned and brushed past her, leaving the room.

"Does that mean… we won?" asked Lucille.

Ann nodded, her eyes shining. "You won," she said quietly. "Janey is free to move to whatever facility she wishes."

"Oh… Oh, she'll want to go home. But first, you must come and visit her Austin. Please… We must find a way for her to meet Michelangelo, and dear little Skylar…" Lucille embraced her niece, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Oh dear, Austin… she'll want to meet your family."

"We'll… try, Aunt Luci," said Austin quietly. "I'm just glad she's safe."

"I'm going to the hospital at once," said Luci. "As soon as the papers are drawn up." She turned to the judge, an older Black woman who smiled benignly. "Thank you _so much_, your Honor."

"You're quite welcome, Miss Chesney," said the judge. "I advise you to be careful. Rin Abramson is not a man to be trifled with. He's powerful in this town. Too powerful, if you ask me."

Lucille nodded. "My brother-in-law is a dangerous man. Thank you for putting my sister out of his reach."

"I wish your family good luck," replied the woman with a sad smile.

"_Doomo arigato, _Your Honor," said Austin, giving the woman a short bow. "We are indebted to you."

The woman shook her head. "Just doing my job, Dear. You take care, now."

Beverly followed Austin, Lucille and Ann out of the courtroom. Elizabeth had left as soon as she finished giving testimony on Janey's mental state. She had a shift to get back to.

"I'll go with you to the hospital, Aunt Luci, but I can't stay long," Austin was saying. "Mike will want to know the outcome…"

"Austin-chan, _magomusume_."

Beverly saw her sister-in-law freeze, turning slowly toward an older Japanese man. He was bent with age, but stood proud, his gaze steady as he looked upon Austin's face.

"Lucille-san. It is good to see you again," he added, sparing a glance for the older woman, who stood as if frozen.

"Likewise, I'm sure, Abramson-san," she responded almost automatically.

Beverly moved immediately to Austin's side.

Austin started. "Grandfather. This… is my sister-in-law. Hamato Beverly."

"Good afternoon, Sir," said Beverly, tight-lipped.

The old man gave her a polite bow. "I am pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hamato."

"And my… other sister in law," added Austin, half-turning to include Ann in the introduction. "Hamato Ann."

His iron-grey eyebrows arched. "Mrs. Hamato," he said. "Austin-chan. I fear my health does not allow me to tarry. I came here today because I must speak with you. I fear my son's foolishness has caused you… inconvenience."

Austin bowed her head. "I am fine, Grandfather. My husband and his brothers protect me now."

"So I heard." The old man's eyes twinkled. "Rin-san was not pleased with their manners when they came to his home to… retrieve you."

Austin nodded respectfully, but her eyes were hard and her mouth was set in a straight line. "Father should not have attempted to force his will on me," she replied quietly.

"I agree, _mago-chan_."

Austin looked up at the endearment. "Grandfather." She drew a shuddering breath. "I have missed you."

"And I you, granddaughter," he replied with a smile so reminiscent of Splinter's, Beverly's breath caught. "I fear _I_ am the cause of the trouble between you and your father."

"Grandfather?" Austin looked confused.

"I wished to… provide for you. I know your father has renounced his responsibility to you, refused to care for you in the manner to which you are accustomed." The old man frowned heavily.

"I do not need Father's money," said Austin quietly. "Please don't be concerned for me any longer, Grandfather."

He nodded. "I can see, Austin-chan, that you have chosen your family well." He smiled. "You have honored our family. But, Granddaughter, my wish is that, when I join our ancestors, that _you_ shall be my heir."

Austin sucked in a sharp breath. "Grandfather!"

The man shook his head. "My son is a fool," he said heavily. "He has _always_ been a fool. If I leave my estate in his hands, he will only squander it. Austin, you have brought me much joy, and proven yourself worthy as well as wise. I have entrusted the care of my worldly possessions to you, so that your father might be taken care of. He is a fool, but he is still my son."

"Grandfather, no, you mustn't." Austin reached out, grasping the man's hand in both her own. "Father will give me no peace if he thinks I hold your fortune…"

"She's right, Mr. Abramson," said Lucille firmly. "This is too great a burden to place upon your granddaughter, Sir."

"Please, Grandfather," pleaded Austin. "Please reconsider. You have so many wise advisers. Allow your lawyers to set up a trust fund for Father."

"Austin-chan, it is my wish to leave my fortune to _you_ and your family," said the old man stiffly.

"_Doomo arigooto,_ Grandfather," said Austin, bowing her head. "But please, I am content. I don't need the money, I have no _need_. My family has all they need." Her eyes flicked from Ann to Beverly, uncertain.

Bev stepped forward. "She's right, Sir. Our family, we take care of one another. We don't need money, especially if it will mean more trouble for Austin."

"I agree," said Ann crisply. "Rin Abramson is a dangerous man. Putting Austin in a place of authority over him is only going to make a worse enemy of him. Please, Sir, consider your granddaughter's wishes."

Mr. Abramnson Sr. straightened, his dark-eyed gaze resting on each woman in turn.

"I see." He bowed low to Austin. "I am sorry to have caused you trouble, Granddaughter. Rin-san will not trouble you again."

"_Doomo arigooto gozaimasu, Ojii-san_," said Austin, returning his bow.

The man nodded, acknowledging her thanks. He turned away, motioning to the man standing next to the car. Beverly tensed, ready to defend Austin, but the man simply opened the door, allowing the old man to climb into the seat. She watched as the vehicle pulled smoothly away from the curb.

_Well,_ thought Beverly. _And I thought _our_ family was different. _


	51. Chapter 50 Benjamin Harpur

**A/N: Yes, Ben is the same bartender who gave Sierra grief about the counterfeit bill earlier. **

* * *

**Chapter 50 ~_Benjamin Harpur_**~

Benjamin Harpur looked at the card again, puzzling over it.

_You are hereby cordially invited to attend a meeting, November 21 at 1pm, with the honorable Miss Oroku Karai of the Saki Corporation, regarding a matter to your mutual benefit. A driver will arrive to collect you at precisely 12:40. Please be prompt._

He glanced at the clock. 12:32. There was still time to change his mind. To leave town…

_I've heard stories about "Miss" Karai. Whispers over a double-shot of whiskey at the bar… Businessmen who don't have anyone else to confide in tell their bartender things._ He fidgeted, tugging at his tie.

_This is a bad idea. But 'mutual benefit'? What does that _mean_, exactly? Could be I'd be passing up a chance of a lifetime. And leaving town would mean leaving _everything_, the Club, my life, my home… such as it is._ He looked around at the humble apartment. It was clean enough, and functional, but sported only a single bedroom, small kitchenette, living space and bathroom. He had only to step out his front door, turn right, down a short hall to go to his office. The apartment was above The Tower Club, an arrangement that suited Benjamin just fine.

He glanced at his watch one more time. 12:38. Decision time. He could head downstairs and meet the driver, or he could pretend not to be home. Benjamin had a feeling that if he chose the latter course of action, he'd better start packing his belongings and look for a quick route out of town.

_I'll go,_ he decided suddenly. _I'll go and meet with Karai Oroku, and if I don't like what she has to say, I'll just smile and nod, and as soon as I get out of there, high-tail it out of town. Just play it cool, Ben, old boy. This could be the deal of a lifetime if you play your cards right. Or it could be an excuse to get the heck out of this drab old town and retire someplace warm. Either way, I win._

When the car pulled up, Benjamin was adjusting his tie again. A young Japanese man stepped out of the front passenger side, opening the back door for him and nodding to indicate he was to climb in.

"Uh, thanks," said Benjamin, climbing into the seat. He fastened his seatbelt and leaned back, impressed with the supple black leather.

"So, uh, nice day, huh?" He directed the question to the smooth black back of the head of the man in the passenger seat. He noticed that both the man who'd held the door and the driver were muscular, with expensive suits that lay like a second skin over broad shoulders. The man made no reply to his weak attempt at conversation. Benjamin shifted on the seat, uneasy. Suddenly packing his things and leaving NY entirely seemed like an attractive option. He wondered, glancing out the window at the people on the sidewalks, if he'd have the chance, after all.

_Ben, old boy, what have you gotten yourself into this time?_

By the time the car pulled up in front of Saki Corp.'s downtown tower, Benjamin's palms were sweating. He stepped out of the door, once again held open by the silent young man. This time the man gave him a slight smile and a bow.

Benjamin swallowed hard, but forced himself to smile back.

_I'm imagining things. I'm sure whatever Miss Oroku wants, it'll be fine. A lot of businesswomen get a reputation for being dragon-ladies. She can't be _that_ bad._

To his surprise, the young man accompanied him into the building. He paused at a huge mahogany desk in the reception area, speaking shortly to the woman sitting there in clipped tones, in a language Benjamin didn't understand. The woman's sharp eyes scanned him up and down before she gave a short nod, and gestured to the enormous black doors to her left.

The young man bent at the waist, turned on his heel, and strode toward the doors without so much as a glance over his shoulder to see if Benjamin was still behind him. The woman's sharp look and raised eyebrow were Benjamin's only clue that he was expected to follow. He scuttled across the marble tile just in time to follow the young man into the elevator. Even though there were no buttons Benjamin could see, his silent companion stood, his hands folded behind his back, while the doors slid closed and the elevator began to move at what seemed to Benjamin an incredible rate.

The car slid to a smooth stop, and the doors whisked open again without a sound. Benjamin followed the young man down a hall to yet another set of monstrous black doors. The man paused, scratching lightly against the frame.

"Come in."

The doors swung inward as if of their own accord, and Benjamin was led into a room that reminded him strongly of a museum display of ancient Asian artifacts. An enormous jade statue glowered down from his left, an image of a Japanese man in a traditional _hakama_, holding a book.

Benjamin had a moment to wonder what ancient scholar the statue represented before the woman's voice stiffened his spine and made him stand straighter. He felt as if he should clack his heels and salute, something he hadn't done since his stint in the Navy.

"Welcome, Mr. Harper. I am Oroku Karai. You honor me with your presence."

Benjamin noticed the young man who'd escorted him bowed low to Miss Oroku, and wondered if he should copy the gesture, but it felt as if it would be awkward, somehow, so he stood a bit straighter.

"Miss Karai. It's a pleasure to meet you."

She returned his gaze steadily from behind a desk so large he could've used it to replace two of the pool tables in his Club. Karai stood, nodding a dismissal to the young man, who at once retreated, closing the huge doors behind him. She came around the desk, her green eyes fixed on Benjamin's face. He nearly took a step back, but thought the better of it and held his ground, returning her gaze steadily though the sweat was beginning to pool in the collar at the back of his neck.

"It is _my_ pleasure as well, Mr. Harpur," said Karai with a disarming, almost kittenish smile. "It seems that Saki Corp. owes you a debt of gratitude."

"Umm… me?" Benjamin stared, at a loss for words.

Karai laid a silky black glove on his forearm. "Yes. Without your keen eye, Mr. Harpur, the counterfeit bills being dispensed from one of our machines in your club might not have been discovered before more of them made it into circulation. As you can imagine," She smiled again, showing the tips of her teeth, "Such an incident could damage the reputation of our company. Saki Corp. can ill afford to be connected with such a distasteful crime as the distribution of counterfeit money."

"Oh! Oh, of course." Benjamin felt some of the tension in him loosen. "I wasn't aware that the machine was owned by Saki Corp.. Some men came and removed it that very night."

"Yes." Karai smiled again, taking back her hand. "My men are very efficient. As soon as the police informed us of your report, we of course removed the machine at once."

"Of course."

Something was niggling at the back of Benjamin's mind, but Karai's wide green eyes and smile made it seem impossible that there was anything wrong in the removal of the machine. Of course it had been the right thing to do. A respectable, well-known business like Saki Corp. wouldn't want to be accused of spreading counterfeit money around the city.

"I'm…. not quite sure what this has to do with me, Miss Oroku," he said carefully.

"My men inform me that it was you, Mr. Harpur, who spotted the counterfeit bill."

He nodded. "Yes. An old customer of mine came in that night. She got money out of the machine and asked me for change to make a phone call. It wasn't until afterward I looked at it again. It felt funny, when she handed it to me, but I was busy talking to her. Not paying attention, you know? In this job, you have to chat up the customers." He gave a self-depreciating smile. "Make 'em feel welcome, so they come back and spend their money."

Karai nodded. "Fascinating. So, the money… felt wrong, in your hands?" She was watching him.

"Yes." He nodded, warming up like the natural story-teller he was. "See, handling money like I do every day, you get a feel for it. When money's real new, it feels rough sometimes, sort of coarse, but you can tell by the way it bends that it's just new. It's stiff. Money's made of a blend, you know. The paper's not just wood pulp. There's fabric in there too. Cotton. That's what makes it last so long in circulation. If it were just wood pulp, the first time you washed your wallet, all your bills would just disintegrate, see? Your cash could be too easily destroyed."

Karai was nodding, as if Benjamin was the most fascinating person she'd ever spoken to.

"Go on."

"Well, um, the government, they put all these security things in money, too. There are those ultra-thin strips of plastic that show up in an ex-ray. And the ink is special, too. But all that's for the FBI boys, so they can tell a really fine counterfeit from the real deal. I don't have time to test every twenty that comes through the bar with one of those fancy markers." He shook his head. "A guy like me, I got to get good at spotting fakes, or I could find myself in deep trouble, you know? I try giving a fake to the bank, where they've got the time and paranoia to check all the bills that come in, and I'm out of luck. They won't take it from me, see? I lose out. I can't afford to let that happen."

"I see." Karai turned, pacing away a few steps, her hands clasped behind her back, as if in thought. "So, you are able to tell a counterfeit from a real dollar bill by feel alone?"

"Uh yeah, mostly. That and, you know, color an' stuff."

"This is a most rare gift you possess, Benjamin Harpur-san." Karai turned to face him again, still smiling. "I am told that the bill you detected was nearly perfect. Even the bank was not able to discern it from true currency. Only close analysis, the kind preformed by special government task-forces, was able to distinguish the difference."

"Well, like I said," Benjamin smiled. "A guy like me, who counts on every penny just to keep my business afloat, has to become his own expert."

"I see." Karai nodded. "I believe, Benjamin Harpur, that you could be of great help to me. You see, a businesswoman such as myself needs people with intelligence and skill in her employ. People who are able to discern what is authentic…" She stepped closer, her smile showing even more teeth. Benjamin was disconcertingly reminded of a wolf. "And what is not."

"Uh, I'm sure you have plenty of employees, Miss Oroku. That young man who brought me here, he, uh, seems like a pretty sharp fellow," said Benjamin, grasping for a change of topic.

_Lady, I know a job offer when I hear one, and I don't think I want anything to do with a job working for you. You're authentic all right. Authentically crooked, if I know anything. I hear Aruba's nice this time of year. Think it's time ol' Benjamin Harpur took himself a little vacation…_

Karai snorted mildly. "He is indeed intelligent, but lacks direction, lacks vision. He is but a soldier, a drone in the great hive of the Saki Corporation." She wandered over to a window and stood with her back to him, looking out over the city.

"Intelligence is one thing, Mr. Harpur. A talent such as your own, it is not something that can be learned or taught."

"Oh, well I don't know about that, Miss Oroku."

"I _do,_ Mr. Harpur. I employ many very talented people. People whose sole purpose in this cooperation is to ferret out deception, and yet _none_ of them were able to detect that bill amongst the true currency."

Her green eyes flashed as if lit from with in as she approached him once more, and this time Benjamin did take a step back.

"I believe you could be a very valuable asset to my company, Mr. Harpur. I am willing to offer you a _very_ generous salary."

"I'm already gainfully employed, Miss Oroku."

"As a bar tender? Your position is easily filled," she said persuasively. "Such aptitude should not go to waste. You are meant for more, Mr. Harpur, than pouring drinks for border-line alcoholics in some dingy little establishment near the docks."

Benjamin drew himself up straight at the insult to his Club. "I'm sorry, Miss Oroku. I _like_ my dingy little establishment. The border-line alcoholics who come in every Friday night are my _friends_. I enjoy being self-employed, and I enjoy what I do. I'm sorry, Miss Oroku. You'll need to look elsewhere for your expert. I wish you the best of luck." This time he did give her a sketchy little bow, and a slightly apologetic smile to soften his refusal. "Good day to you, Ma'am."

"I think, Mr. Harpur, you will find that leaving my company is not so easy as you seem to think," she said, her voice dripping icicles. "Nor is my offer to be refused out of hand."

Benjamin turned toward the doors, only to find his way barred by the self-same men who'd brought him to Karai's office.

"Escort Mr. Harpur to his new office," she said as coolly as if she were directing a board meeting. "He will begin work at once."

"Office? What are you talking about? I'm leaving!" Benjamin sputtered, but it was no use. The men grasped his arm, one on either side, and frog-marched him out of the office, down the hall, to yet another elevator. As the doors slid closed, the cold sweat began dripping down Benjamin's spine.

_I knew I should've headed for Aruba when I had the chance. _


	52. Chapter 51 Announcement

**A/N: So I umm... Kinda forgot to post yesterday... *blushing* Sorry, guys. But I've got college starting May 31, and homeschooling and a business dinner to go to with my husband and BMX racing (my son) and getting ID ready to go to Quebec next month on a school trip (my daughter), not to mention normal housework and the running of a house hold... *explodes* So... sorry. I'll try not to neglect the guys again...**

**On with the show. Oh, and while I'm at it... some hugs and love for my epic readers, Melody Winters and DuckiePray, both awesome writers in their own (pardon the pun) right. Love you girls!  
**

* * *

**Chapter 51 ~_Announcement_~**

"Austin, I wish you'd reconsider." Lucille glanced over at her niece as she guided the rental down the side street toward Laird. "I could drive. If we went at night, Michelangelo and Skylar would be easily concealed in the back seat."

"I know Aunt Luci, but there are the tolls, patrols on the highways…"

"You told me you sometimes go to the Hamptons for vacations," answered Luci. "Why is coming back to New Jersey for a few days so different?"

"The boys are planning a raid," said Austin quietly. "Donatello has been able to track down the building he thinks is being used for the counterfeiting."

"A raid?" Lucille's eyebrow rose. "Why not just get information to the police, and let them deal with it?"

Austin shook he head. "First, the NYPD are over extended as it is. They'd never take an anonymous report seriously. Secondly, this… is personal. Leo believes the reason the Purple Dragons and the Foot have teamed up is to distract us. Karai's ordered a direct attack on our family. He's not going to just ignore that. None of us are."

Lucille blew out a sigh of frustration. "All the more reason, I'd say, to remove you from danger! That awful gang already tried to use you for bait…"

"I'm not running away, Aunt Luci," said Austin quietly. "It's not the first time my family has been threatened. We stand together."

Lucille nodded. "I understand," she said quietly. "You're right. I'm sorry, Austin."

The younger woman gave her a sad smile. "I know. I wish I could go, Aunt Luci. Having Mother back again, only to have her leave…"

"I'm sorry, dear. She wants to be home… and home, for Janey, is New Jersey now. She wants to see the house one more time, her own home, and I'll put up the Christmas tree early. She always did love seeing the tree up with all the lights and ornaments…" she trailed off, tears stinging her eyes again.

"She seemed stronger," said Austin encouragingly. "I'll come, Aunt Luci, just later, after all this is settled. Michelangelo and I will bring Skylar to see her, in a few weeks… if we can."

Luci nodded, noticing Austin didn't say _if she's still alive, _but knowing that's what she meant.

She waited a moment as the well-camouflaged steel door rose slowly, and pulled the car inside. She slid it into park as the door dropped closed behind them, shutting out the noise of the City effectively.

"I'm glad you came to see her again before we left," said Luci quietly. "I know Janey will be ready to go tomorrow morning."

"Thank you for coming back to the Lair one more night," said Austin quietly. "I know… everyone, will want to see you again before you leave."

Lucille smiled, fingering the jade heart hanging around her neck unconsciously. "Do you think he…?" She caught herself and stopped, blushing.

"He's hardly left his room since you left the other day," said Austin quietly, smiling. "He says he's meditating, but I caught him sitting and watching television with no sound the other day, just staring at the screen. He's been… distracted."

Lucille felt her cheeks grow even warmer. "I did hope to see him one more time before I left," she admitted.

"Well, I hope you'll return to visit us often, Aunt Luci."

"Of course." Lucille smiled sadly. _After Janey is gone, I will be free to travel. I'll be able to visit often. But Austin has her own life… Oh Janey, how will I occupy my time when you leave me? I will miss you _so_ much, little sister._

She blinked away the threatening tears. There would be time for grief, later. For now, she would enjoy this one last evening with Austin's family, and with a certain gentle-Rat, of whom Lucille had become quite fond, though she hadn't admitted that to anyone save Austin, and then only after the younger woman had wheedled the truth out of her.

The ancient elevator slid closed behind them, and Lucille stepped out into the main room, feeling once again as if she were coming home.

_How very odd,_ she thought. _Just a few weeks ago, I never could have imagined Austin's home being hidden beneath the city streets, or her unusual family, and now they feel as much like family as Austin and Janey herself. Oh Janey, I do hope you'll be able to meet Austin's husband and darling Skylar. I know you'd be happy for her. _She frowned. _Something doesn't feel right. It's so quiet without Isamu here._

"I'm jus' sayin' I'm sicka you avoidin' me!" Raphael's shout carried clearly across the main room. "Ya've been actin' weird fer weeks now, Annie! If ya don't wanna be here wit' me anymore, jus' say so an' get it ovah wit'!"

Lucille hesitated. It sounded like they'd arrived at a _very_ bad time. Bailey's excited bark and a yelp from the Turtle had her surging forward instinctively. Austin hurried toward the shouting without even a ghost of her aunt's indecision. Lucille came into the main room in time to see Bailey crouching, staring up at Raphael with his tongue lolling out, as if he thought the entire exchange a game. Raph was glowering at the dog and rubbing his leg above the kneepad.

Ann was on her feet, placing herself firmly between the scowling Turtle and the dog. "Serves you right," she snapped. "You know he doesn't like it when people shout!"

"Da damn dog _bit_ me!"

"You _yelled!_"

"Well whatdaya want me ta do?" Raph shouted right back. "I can't figure ya out, Annie! Whatdaya want from me?"

"I want you to _stop yelling_!"

Raphael straightened. "Fine. I'm leavin'." He turned away, striding toward the doors.

"Raph, wait! You know it's not safe!" Ann's voice cracked. Lucille could see the younger woman trembling and she rushed forward to put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sorry, Ann. We've come at such an awful time," she said quietly into her ear. Ann clung to Luci, shivering.

"Hamato _Raphael." _Austin's voice snapped through the Lair, stopping the red-banded Turtle for a moment before he continued forward with a growl.

"_Yamete!_" she shouted sharply.

Raph spun on his heel, scowling. "Mind yer own business, Austin!" he snapped. "Dis don't concern you!"

"This is ridiculous," Austin answered. "Stop acting like an overgrown child!"

Lucille heard a whisper of movement on the balcony before Leonardo came quietly down the stairs. He looked from Raphael to Ann, his eyes narrowing slightly behind the mask, before shaking his head and turning toward the kitchen.

"He won't listen to me anyway_,_" Lucille heard him mutter as he walked away.

"Quit being such a complete _bonehead_, Raph," Austin was saying. "You're not leaving and you know it. And if Ann wanted to leave, don't you think she would have by now? Come back and talk to her."

"I _said_ mind yer business, Austin!"

"_Make_ me!"

Lucille's eyes widened as she watched the angry Turtle glare at her slim niece, but Austin wasn't backing down. She stood between Raphael and the door, her hands on her hips.

"This family _is_ my business, Raphael!"

Donatello came out of his lab and stood in the doorway, surveying the scene. Seeing the pair squaring off, he jogged across the room and grasped Raphael's shoulder.

"Hey, Bro, take it easy, huh," he said soothingly.

Raph shrugged off his brother's hand. "I _said _I'm goin' _out_," he snarled.

"Raphael, wait," said Lucille impulsively. "Please don't go."

She saw his shoulders twitch, but he didn't turn to look at her.

Lucille leaned close to Ann's ear. "Dear, have you informed your husband of your condition?"

Ann shook her head, wild-eyed, but Lucille squeezed her shoulders.

"That's what this is about, isn't it? Ann, dear, don't you think it's time?"

"I can't!"

"Would you rather let him walk out of here, believing you no longer love him?" she asked.

An went very still for a moment, before her shoulders slumped.

"Raph, wait." her voice was so soft, Lucille was certain the red-masked ninja wouldn't hear, but Raphael froze. Slowly, he turned to look at his wife. His eyes were a blaze of fury, suspicion and grief.

"Wait," said Ann, her voice stronger this time. She moved slowly, almost cautiously, toward the Turtle, holding out her hands. "I'm sorry. Please don't go. I… I need to tell you something."

If Lucille didn't know better, she would have thought the Turtle was near tears.

"Annie, I… I said t'ings I don't mean. I… I jus' need ta run off a little steam. Fer… fer what it's worth, I don't wantcha ta go. I'll jus' go out in da tunnels fer a little bit. I'll come back, I promise."

"No, Raph." Ann shook her head. "Don't go. Not yet." She surged forward suddenly, and gripped his wrists.

"Annie…"

"I shouldn't have kept it from you. I should've told you right away. I was afraid…"

"Ya ain't gotta be afraid o' not'in, Annie," growled Raph.

"I… I was afraid you wouldn't want… I was afraid you wouldn't be happy." Tears streamed down the woman's cheeks.

Lucille clasped her hands together under her chin, forcing herself to stay still and quiet. Donatello and Austin looked on, similarly silent.

Ann wrapped her arms around Raphael's shoulders, clinging. She laid her head on his collarbone and whispered against his neck, too softly for Lucille to hear the words.

The effect on the Turtle was electric. He stood up straight, grasping her by the shoulders and staring into her face, searching with wide, wild eyes.

"Annie! Annie, yer tellin' me yer… yer…" He trailed off, at an apparent loss for words.

She nodded. "I'm… pregnant, Raph."

"Den, all dis… all dis time, ya've been actin' so weird… ya've been sick because… yer… we're… we're gonna have a _baby_?"

"A smile stole across Ann's face, in spite of the tears still streaming down her cheeks. " We're gonna have a baby."

Raphael's _whoop_ echoed through the Lair, bouncing off the walls. He caught Ann up, hugging her to his plastron and spinning her around so that her hair flew out like a flag.

"We're gonna have a _baby!" _he shouted. "We're gonna have a baby." He set Ann gently on her feet and leaned in for a deep, searching kiss.

Lucille felt tears sting her eyes at the tender scene. Something about the temperamental Turtle's joy tugged at her heart. The Lair had seemed so quiet, so empty when she entered. _Perhaps this glad news can drive out the gloom._

She felt, rather than heard, a slight motion at her side, and turned to gaze into warm, dark eyes.

"Splinter. You're just in time. Your son just discovered he's going to be a father," she said quietly.

The Rat nodded, smiling. "So I heard," he answered. "I was beginning to fear for them. Raphael has never been patient."

"Congratulations," said Lucille, smiling.

"_Doomo arigato,_" murmured Splinter.

Ann was clinging to Raphael now, her shoulders shaking with sobs. He was speaking quietly to her, smoothing his hand comfortingly over her back. Austin had her arm around Don's waist in a sisterly manner. They were both smiling fit to burst. Leonardo came out of the kitchen.

"Good evening, Sensei. Lucille." He glanced toward the couple, raising an eye-ridge. "They've made up, I take it."

"Ann is expecting a child, my son," said Splinter, pride and joy carrying clearly in his voice.

Leonardo went very still. "Ann's… pregnant?" he asked, incredulous, then laughed. "_That_'s what's been so weird with her!" He went still again, and Lucille saw his eyes narrow behind the mask. "Raph's going to be a father," he whispered, half to himself. A slow grin spread over his face. "Raph's going to be a _father._"

"Indeed." Splinter nodded.

Raphael stood up, and Ann smiled radiantly, reaching up to wipe the stray tears from her cheeks. Bailey pranced over with an excited _yip_. The barrier holding the others back seemed to crumble, and Leonardo, Donatello and Austin all surged forward to embrace Ann and slap Raphael on the shell, loudly congratulating the couple.

"There will be no peace in the Lair," said Splinter with a chuckle. "With _three_ children."

Michelangelo, apparently hearing the noise, came downstairs. It took only a moment for him to catch on to what was happening. He whooped, pumping one fist in the air before pouncing on his older brother.

"You could always come to New Jersey with me," said Lucille lightly, smiling. Splinter's dark eyes flicked to her face, and away again.

"I thank you, Lucille-san, but I fear my sons would get into too much trouble without my supervision," he replied.

Luci laughed, watching Raphael rub his knuckles firmly against his youngest brother's head. "That's probably true."

They watched a few more minutes as Raphael's arm went possessively around his wife's shoulders. He smiled widely, accepting congratulations and hugs from all sides as Beverly and Sierra joined the group. Ann leaned into him, confidence and happiness radiating from her expression once again.

_Well it's about time,_ thought Lucille. _This family does so much to protect this City. They deserve some joy now and then. I'm glad I stayed. I wouldn't trade this evening for anything. Being here for this is more joy than I'd hoped to enjoy in my lifetime._


	53. Chapter 52 A Walk in the Park

**A/N: Just have to pause a moment to say... This... is my Favorite. Chapter. EVER. :)**

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****Chapter 52 ~_A Walk in the Park_~**

Soon Splinter's sons had decided to organize an impromptu party to help celebrate Raphael and Ann's good news. Before long, music was playing and the elevator doors slid open, revealing a young human couple, smiling widely as greetings bounced off the walls, echoing and making Splinter wince slightly at their exuberance. Bailey jumped about, yipping excitedly.

"April O'Neil and Casey Jones," he explained quietly to Lucille, who'd settled on the couch near his chair. "Dear friends to our family."

"Is something wrong, Splinter?" asked the woman, watching him. She leaned forward, setting the cup of tea he'd prepared for her on a coaster. Splinter shook his head, but winced slightly.

"I fear the noise," he gestured toward the stereo. "Is beginning to make my head ache."

Lucille smiled. "The younger generation's tastes in music aren't always the same as ours," she said sympathetically. "Would you care to walk with me, Splinter?" He turned to look at her, startled and uncertain, and she smiled, making his stomach flip uncomfortably. "I never did get to see much of Central Park."

"That would, perhaps, be pleasant," said Splinter, nodding slowly. _Any excuse to escape this racket. _He winced as Casey Jones whooped, pouncing on Raphael. A friendly wrestling match ensued, which soon became a free-for-all, with all the Turtles joining in.

Splinter rose carefully, sidestepping Michelangelo and Leonardo who rolled across the floor, vying for position, laughing uproariously. The girls had long-since moved into the kitchen, presumably to escape the boys' enthusiastic revelry.

Lucille stood as well, reaching for her coat, which she'd laid across the back of the couch. Splinter moved quickly, picking it up and holding it carefully for her. Lucille glanced at him, startled, but a slow smile crept across her face as she slid her arms into the sleeves, shrugging into the jacket.

"Thank you."

Splinter nodded, acknowledging her thanks. "A moment, Lucille-san, while I fetch a covering," he said quietly.

By the time Splinter had wrapped his own weathered cloak around his shoulders, careful to conceal his profile, the boys had formed a circle around Raphael and Casey Jones, who seemed to be engaged in a friendly but exuberant sparring match.

"Get 'im, Raph!" called Donatello.

"Kick his shell, Casey!" shouted Michelangelo, practically dancing with excitement.

Splinter joined Lucille at the door, opening it quietly and allowing her to precede him into the tunnels. He clicked on the small flashlight he'd brought for the purpose, shining it ahead of them so that Luci could see the tunnel floor. He paused at one of the manhole covers the family sometimes used to reach Central Park. He removed the cover carefully; cautious, even as strange sensations whirled through him.

Instead of clambering out of the hole, he waited until she'd begun climbing, reaching back to take her hand and help her up the ladder. He held on until she was standing next to the hole on solid pavement.

"Thank you," she said softly.

He nodded, letting go so he could slide the cover back into place. Splinter tried to ignore the disappointingly cold place left on his palm when he released her hand. The world above was relatively peaceful, with only a few humans moving along the sidewalks toward their late-evening destinations.

"Come, Lucille-san," said Splinter quietly, gesturing toward the park. He glanced here and there, scanning the area carefully for any danger before leading the way across the street and into the Park itself. He glanced over his shoulder to be sure the woman was still with him. Her eyes were shining with delight.

"It's beautiful, Splinter," she said quietly.

A smile tugged at the Rat's mouth. "It is indeed, Lucille-san," he answered. _Though I had not noticed the Park's beauty as much as it's potential dangers, until I witnessed it through your eyes._

He waited as she looked around, taking in the splendor that was Central Park in the late evening. Deep shadows and pockets of light from lamps lining the pathways seemed transformed from dangerous potential hiding place for foes into mysterious coves, inviting, begging to be explored. Splinter felt lighter, younger, than he had in many years. When Lucille's hand landed on his shoulder, he half-turned toward her. She was pointing, her eyes wide and her expression excited.

"What is that, Splinter?"

He followed her gaze and smiled. "It is the fountain. My sons used to enjoy playing here as children. Long after dark, of course," he answered.

"Austin used to come here with Janey," said Lucille softly. Her brown eyes were luminous in the moonlight. "She spoke of it often. They would sit there on the ledge and eat ice cream cones."

"Perhaps you would like to go closer?" suggested Splinter.

"Oh yes, please," answered Lucille, her face lighting up with her smile.

Splinter suddenly found it difficult to draw a deep breath. Reaching out before he could change his mind, he grasped her fingers gently.

"Then I will take you," he said.

Luci started slightly at the contact, but then her hand curled around his, and she smiled, stealing what was left of the breath from his lungs.

"I'd like that," she said shyly. "Very much."

Splinter hardly felt the grass under his geta sandals as they moved quietly to the fountain's edge. Lucille leaned forward, laughing in delight at the way the water splashed down over the tiers.

"In a few weeks' time the water will be turned off for the winter," said Splinter quietly. "I am glad we were able to come while the fountain is still running."

"Oh! It will be so sad, silent and still," said Lucille softly, reaching out to let the water drip over her fingers. She shivered. "I suppose the water would freeze in winter."

"Indeed, Lucille-san. But in spring, the water is freed once more," he told her. "The fountain is not silent for long." He was rewarded by her smile.

Splinter watched, fascinated by the way the water slid over her fingertips. A memory… another woman, trailing her fingers over the surface of the koi pond in the garden, the way the little fish came to the surface to nip at her fingertips, making her laugh, rose to Splinter's mind. He cleared his throat quietly.

"Some believe that if they throw small coins into the water, they may be granted a wish," he said, wondering even as the words left his mouth why he was telling her this.

Lucille smiled with delight, and he forgot to breathe.

She dug in her pocket with her free hand, still damp from the fountain, and drew it out again, clinking.

"We should each make a wish," she said. Before Splinter could answer, she cradled the hand she was holding, gently turning it and dropping a quarter into his palm.

"I cannot, Lucille-san," he protested, embarrassed.

"Nonsense. You're never too old for wishes," answered Lucille crisply.

She hugged her own quarter to her chest a moment. He saw her fingers stray to the jade pendant as she whispered a silent prayer. She tossed her coin into the fountain, where it balanced on the lip of the topmost tier.

"Your turn, Splinter," she said, smiling.

Splinter shook his head, remembering when his sons were very small and he'd come to this very fountain to collect a few of the coins hopeful humans had sacrificed to its waters, scrounging as much of the precious cash as he dared, so as not to have to steal what his growing sons needed from the local fruit stands and grocery shops.

"I feel so silly," he murmured, but Lucille just smiled, so he flipped the coin gently into the fountain.

_May my ancestors forgive me for taking wishes from these waters, all those years ago_, he thought sadly. _I meant no harm, and those coins helped feed my sons_. He turned to look into Lucille's eyes. They were shining with such understanding, he stared. _It is as if she heard my prayer_, he thought with a start.

The woman smiled, hooking her elbow through his own. Splinter was surprised to find that, rather than towering over him as April and his daughters-in-law, save for Austin, seemed to do, Lucille was able to walk next to him quite comfortably, being only a few inches taller than his own four-feet, six inches.

"I'd like to see the gardens," she said softly.

"They will be closed now," he replied. "But we may wander the paths. During the day there are tours, with guides to tell of the history of the gardens."

"I believe I'd rather see them now, with you" said Lucille. "That is, if you don't mind?"

"I would be honored."

Arm-in-arm they wandered along the winding paths, with Lucille pausing every so often to admire the chrysanthemums and other fall flowerbeds.

"The colors… they're like a sunset," she said, brushing her fingers against the pedals of a particularly beautiful dark-red flower. Impulsively, Splinter reached out, plucking the flower. He reached up, boldly tucking it behind her ear. He smiled at the startled way her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

"It is indeed beautiful."

She made no comment, only squeezed his hand shyly. Splinter returned her smile calmly, though he felt certain she must be able to hear his heart beating wildly, and walked on, content to enjoy the warm pressure of her hand on his elbow.

"I will treasure this night," she said softly. "Splinter, I…" She hesitated. "Perhaps it's the moonlight, or the beautiful setting…" She laughed a little self-depreciatingly. "But I feel as if I don't speak now, I'll never be able to… to tell you."

"Yes, Lucille-san?" asked Splinter. He paused to gaze at her, and was once again lost in the brown eyes that met his.

Luci motioned toward a stone bench, and the Rat moved easily in that direction, allowing her to sit down before he joined her. He turned expectantly toward the woman. She was watching him with a strangely apprehensive look.

_So much like the way Ann was watching Raphael earlier_, thought Splinter with a pang. _So uncertain… so afraid he would reject the glad news_.

"I… I loved a man once," said Lucille quietly. "I never thought I could love another. Robert was…" She paused a moment, closing her eyes as if in pain and swallowing hard. When she opened her eyes again, Splinter saw that they were shining with tears, but Lucille blinked, and they didn't fall.

"Robert was my entire life," she said softly. "When he died, a part of me died, too. I never thought to find happiness again, never imagined I could feel that way again."

Splinter nodded. "The loss of one's life-mate is not easily overcome," he murmured sympathetically.

Luci nodded. She reached out, taking his hand carefully in her own again. Splinter didn't pull away, though he was unused to being touched. Her hands were soft, pleasant against his fingers.

"For me, it was the loss of a dream," she said softly. "I had always believed we would be married, raise children, have a family together. It wasn't meant to be." She smiled sadly. "I am proud to have known Robert. He was a good man. I've never met anyone as kind and wise and gentle as he was. Until now."

Splinter started, looking up into her face. Something twisted in his chest.

"You have… met someone, here in New York?" he asked, hoping his words didn't sound as stiff to her ears as they felt coming out of his mouth.

"I have. He is… amazing."

"I see."

Splinter sat back against the bench, surreptitiously trying to take his hand back, but Lucille tightened her grip suddenly, refusing to release him. Splinter shifted on the cold stone, embarrassment making his fur prickle uncomfortably.

_I have been _such_ an old fool. Austin-chan was mistaken_.

"I am… happy for you," he said stiffly.

"I feel so silly," she said, drawing a shaky breath. "I mean, I am not young anymore, and not so vain as to think I'm still as attractive as I was in my youth, when Robert went off to war."

"Youth is a gift of nature," replied Splinter, hardly thinking. "But the grace and beauty of a mature flower come only with time."

"You're very sweet, Hamato Splinter-san," said Luci quietly.

Splinter cleared his throat, avoiding her gaze. "This… person, you have met. You believe he has… feelings for you, as well?"

"I… hope he does," said Luci. "It's hard to tell. His manners are so formal."

"Courtesy does sometimes mask stronger passions," murmured Splinter.

"I hope that is the case," said Lucille.

Splinter stared out into the shadows of the park. The place seemed desolate to him now. Death lay heavy on the bluish tone of the grass, the way the pale leaves drifted down from the branches. The breeze blew softly, whistling, mocking him.

_Fool… to think anyone could want a mutant _Rat_… humans run from rats. They shriek and chase them with brooms. Humans have no tender feelings for creatures like myself. Even Tang Shen was moved only by pity._

"Splinter…" Lucille's free hand came up, gently pushing back the hood of his cloak, brushing the ruff of fur at the top of his robe, touching tentatively.

Splinter sat… quite still. Emotions rocketed through him, tumbling over themselves in a riot of confusion. The touch of her hand was so soft, and the perfume of lotus blossoms seemed to lie heavily on the air.

"Lucille-san, I…" he trailed off, the words dying in his throat as her fingers burrowed through his fur to touch the skin of his neck with the lightest caress. He shivered, though the night was warm for November and his cloak was quite adequate to protect against the evening's chill.

She was staring, fascinated, at his fur, as she ran her fingers through it, exploring much as his sons had when they were very small. Seeming to realize what she was doing, she blinked, taking her hand away quite suddenly. A blush rose in her cheeks.

Splinter felt a chill where her hand had been. Instinctively, he reached out, touching her arm rather awkwardly. Slowly, she looked up, meeting his eyes once again, with a mixture of longing and wariness and… something else, something Splinter hardly dared try to identify, soft and warm and welcoming.

"Lucille-san," he said softly, with a feeling of unreality, as if he were speaking in a dream. "May I ask the name of the one who has so engaged your affections?"

"You may," she answered, her lips curving in the softest of smiles. "His name is _Hamato Splinter_."

Splinter blinked, astonishment and joy warring for supremacy.

"You are the most amazing person I've ever met, Splinter," said Lucille very softly. "You are wise and strong. No one, save for Robert, has ever made me feel so… so protected. So special. I… I hope I haven't offended you."

"No, Lucille-san." Tears filled Splinter's eyes. "I am honored." He cleared his throat, trying to steady his voice. "That you could consider such as myself…" he shook his head, at a loss.

"Then… I am not mistaken, to think you… might feel it too?" asked Lucille softly.

"No, Lucille-san," replied Splinter, honor requiring honesty. _I am an old fool… but I cannot deny these… feelings_.

She nodded, smiling through her tears. "There is so much I want to talk to you about, but I have to go back to New Jersey tomorrow," said Lucille softly. "I'm sorry, Splinter, but Janey needs me."

"I understand, Lucille-san," responded Splinter, though the empty space that opened in his chest reminded him of the night he told his son he was being sent to Central America to train. It was as if a part of him was leaving.

"After… after my responsibility to my sister has ended…" Splinter felt a faint shudder ripple through her, and he gave her shoulder a comforting squeeze. "I will be able to return. To… visit."

_I fear you will discover, when you return home and away from the novelty of the City, you will remember that you are a human and I… I am… _Splinter forced a small smile.

"You will always be welcome, Lucille-san."

She was watching him. "You could… come with me."

"I, too, have responsibilities," he replied, though his heart leapt at the thought. _To accompany Lucille, to be there with her, to simply remain in her company, to comfort her as she dealt with her sister's passing… But she will not want company, not with her responsibilities. Still, if I could shield her from this pain, I would._

"I suppose you do." He felt her smile in the dark. "They would get into trouble without you here to supervise." Lucille reached up, unfastening the necklace she wore. "I want you to have this," she said softly.

Splinter shook his head. "Lucille-san, I cannot…"

"Please, Splinter. I know this is all… sudden, and a bit… Please. Take it as a token of my promise to return."

"I am honored," he said softly, bowing his head.

Luci shifted on the bench, leaning into him, her arm winding naturally around his waist. After a moment's shock, Splinter cautiously wrapped his own arm around her shoulders, drawing the petite woman nearer. She sighed contentedly, leaning her head against his shoulder. They sat that way for a long time, content in one another's company, as the twilight faded into late evening and one by one the lights along the path came on.


	54. Chapter 53 Unexpected

**Chapter 53 ~_Unexpected~_**

"Mikey, _c'mon!_"

Don's voice was unusually strained. Normally Mike would've made a crack about cutting back on the caffeine, Dude, but tonight he just nodded and sped up. His brother had been on edge since handing Isamu over to April. Even the good news had only eased Don's mood temporarily. He'd insisted on going alone to take the boy to her apartment, and in hindsight, Michelangelo thought it had been a mistake to allow it. Don had made the announcement so casually, the morning after the battle.

_Now that Masaru's out of the way, Isamu should be safe. I already called April. I'll take him to her so she can turn him over to the proper authorities. _

The casual calm in Don's voice, as if they were having a normal breakfast conversation had felt just a little off to Mikey, even then, but he'd suppressed the niggling suspicion at the time, feeling that Leo and Don were making the right choice, even if it was hard.

_It wasn't like we could keep the little guy. He's a _human_, not a pet. _He sighed, making the leap to the next building half-automatically, hardly checking where his feet landed before sprinting after his brothers. _Still, Donny's been pretty down since he came back from April's. And he's been hovering over Kouki. I guess I've been the same way with Skylar. Man, I didn't know being a dad would be this _hard.

"Michelangelo!" Leo's voice snapped through his thoughts.

"'Sup, Fearless?"

Leonardo had paused, and was glaring.

_Uh oh._

"This isn't a _game_, Mikey. You've got to stay focused," he scolded.

Mikey snapped to attention, giving his older brother a smart salute. "You got it, Bro," he said, giving Leo just enough of a grin to soften the stern expression on his brother's face.

Leo shook his head. Mikey noticed Raph and Don had come to a halt and were looking to Leo expectantly. Well, Don was. Raph's body language indicated his focus was on Leo, but his eyes were scanning the rooftops, searching for danger, as usual.

"Ok, we're almost there. Donny, you have the security pretty well sussed out?" asked Leonardo.

Don was nodding already, pulling a schematic from his bag. "Yep. From the look of the City's planning documents, they've got some pretty heavy-duty alarm systems installed. This is state-of-the-art stuff, the absolute latest in security tech. Some of it's not even available on the consumer market yet, it's strictly Government Issue…"

"Ok, Genius, we get it," growled Raph. "Now, tell us how we get _past_ it."

Don cleared his throat. "Yeah, uh, well I'll need to get _onto_ the roof first. Most of the sensor arrays are wired through a junction box, _here._" He pointed. "If I can tap into their system, I can put the sensors on a pulse mode. That should give us intervals when they're not picking up movement. We'll have to move quickly, but that's never been a problem for us."

"Why not just shut the sensors off, Dude?" asked Mike.

"Like I told you when we talked about this at _home_, Mike," said Don, arching an eyebrow. "The sensors being shut down would attract a _lot_ more attention, a lot faster. This way the techs shouldn't even realize there's a problem until we're long gone."

"Oh, yeah right. Heh." Michelangelo nodded.

_Yeah, you probably did tell us that, Don, during the boring strategy part of the lecture you and Leo were giving, but I was kinda zoned out just then. That new Megaman comic comes out next week… A guy's gotta have his priorities. _

"Ok so step one, get on the roof. Mikey, you and I will cover Donny while he gets that security system under control. Raph, you're our look out. Keep the perimeter under surveillance."

"Gottcha, Fearless. Check da edges o' da roof so da Foot don't come sneakin' on us. You got it."

"Everyone understand what we're doing?"

"We _got_ it, Fearless." Raph responded with automatic impatience.

"We're good, Leo," answered Don. Mikey noticed his normal soft smile was missing.

_Geez, Don, why so grim?_

"Are we good, Mikey?" Leonardo was looking at him, a slight frown creasing his brow.

"I'm all over it, Leo." Mike pulled out his 'chucks and gave them a spin.

"All right." Leonardo's mouth set in a grim smile. He held out his hand, and three fists bumped his own. "Let's do this."

Thirty minutes later, Michelangelo was certain he was going out of his _mind_ with boredom.

"Leo, when I said I'm 'all over it', I didn't mean I was all over sitting around and waiting for Donny to... do whatever he's doin' with that computer. What're ya doing, Bro? Playin' Solitaire?"

"I'm _trying_ to hack the system," responded Donatello through gritted teeth. "I didn't expect their security protocols to be this heavily guarded. They've got some serious shields on this software."

"What? Some lousy Foot software thwarts the famous Donatello Hamato, Genius Techno-Turtle? Donny, I'm shocked! I'm horrified. It can't be… you can't be… Tell me it isn't true!" Michelangelo threw a hand over his plastron dramatically. "You can't be losing your mojo, Bro!"

"Shut _up_, Mikey," growled Don.

Michelangelo blinked. He expected snappish behavior from Raph. It was his style, his endearing lone-wolf personality, but Don? The guy who had it all together, all the time, the guy who was cool in any crisis?

"Leave him alone, Mikey. He's trying to concentrate," said Leonardo.

Leo was leaning back against the small brick pillar Don was perched next to, scanning the rooftops. Raph paced the edge, just out of sight in the shadows. Michelangelo was to Leo's left, watching Don's back from that side, even though he knew Raphael would alert them to anyone ascending the side of the building or approaching across the rooftops.

Mike blew out a sigh and went back to scanning the area. At least Don had let them all have the night-vision goggles. He entertained himself by looking at the neon lights, which turned the goggle's vision totally green, then looking out across the rooftops, watching as the shapes and shadows faded back into clear relief as the goggles adjusted to the lower light levels they were designed for.

Movement two roofs over had Mikey snapping to attention.

"Leo, we've got company," he said softly, all joking gone.

"Raph's got him," answered Leo in the same tone.

Sure enough, as Michelangelo watched, his brother slipped up behind the Foot ninja, knocking him out with a single blow to the back of the head. Raph gave a quick wave to the others and disappeared behind a vent.

"He'll search out a little further," murmured Leo. "Make sure there aren't more guards hanging around."

"Yeah, these guys tend to travel in packs," responded Mike. It gave him an eerie feeling, seeing Raph so clearly with the night-vision goggles.

_Shell, if _I_ can see him in the shadows with these goggles, so can the Foot,_ thought Mikey uncomfortably. Suddenly all the extra training sessions Leo'd put them through since Don had invented the goggles made sense. They'd learned to rely on more than just darkness to conceal themselves, being more aware of the layout of the rooftops and sticking to more-sheltered areas. He saw Raph step out and give an 'all clear' wave.

"I'm in!" Don's exclamation of triumph was just loud enough to carry to his brothers.

Leonardo straightened, and gestured to Raph. Mikey looked down at Donatello, half-expecting to see some magic glow or other sign of his success, but he looked exactly the same as he had five minutes before, hunched over his laptop, his fingers flying over the keys in a blur, except now he was smirking.

_You go, Donny,_ Mikey cheered silently. _I knew them Foot computers couldn't stand up to you._

"Problem, Fearless?" Raph landed lightly on the roof where they were standing.

"Donny's got it. We're moving in."

Raphael nodded, grinning wickedly. "Nice."

"Ok guys. The sensors will be blanked at fifteen-second intervals. We'll need to move quickly." Donatello unclipped his laptop, and adjusted a small device he'd left connected to the wiring. "This is a temporary set up," he said. "The battery's only good for about two hours. We've got to get in and get out."

Leonardo nodded. "Let's go."

Mike resisted the urge to cheer and Leonardo led them down the fire escape to a window facing north. The eldest Turtle peered in from the shadows for a moment before jimmying the lock and sliding the window open.

"All dis security an' they still got windows we can slide open."

"The security is shut off, Raph," murmured Donatello. "Otherwise that would've set off an alarm."

Leonardo motioned for silence, and climbed carefully through the window, drawing a katana as he dropped to the floor without a sound. The others followed. Michelangelo felt the familiar tingles of anticipation up the back of his shell. His hand rested on his nunchuck as he followed his brothers into what looked like an ordinary office. Leo slid across the floor like a wraith, and grasped the doorknob, hunching forward to listen intently before easing the door open a few inches and peering into the hall. He motioned again, and the four filed out of the office. Michelangelo looked around, feeling slightly disappointed. They'd stepped into a very ordinary-looking hallway, with a row of doors on either wall. Mikey counted ten doors total.

Leonardo looked to Don, raising an eye-ridge. Donny nodded and pointed, and they moved down the hall, spreading out behind Leo in formation, with Donny in the lead for a change, then Leonardo, Raph, and Mikey bringing up the rear. Michelangelo smirked. Normally Leonardo insisted on being first into danger, with Raph bringing up the rear to guard their backs. The two youngest didn't often get a chance at being either leader or rear-guard, but today they were covering both positions.

Donny led them to the second-to-the-last door on the left of the hallway, and motioned to Leo as he stuck something to the door just above the handle. Turning slightly, he pointed. Michelangelo's gaze followed his brother's finger. He saw a small black circle near the ceiling, with a tiny red light blinking intermittently.

"When that goes solid, our time's up, so we've got to do this quick," said Don in a whisper.

"I think the explosive you're using to open this door will alert them to our presence, Don," Leonardo returned.

Michelangelo nearly danced with anticipation. As dangerous as he knew the mission was about to get, he _loved_ Donny's contact explosives.

_Just like Mythbusters,_ he thought gleefully. _I love it when things go boom._

"Not necessarily," said Don. "It's a small charge. I picked this specifically for low volume and impact. We should be able to slip in and get out again before they know we're here. Now, everyone get back."

He motioned impatiently and Mike, Leo and Raph moved a good way down the hall. Don pushed a few buttons, and hastily got out of the way. Within moments there was a sort of muffled _whump_. Mikey jumped, then stared at Donatello, sharply disappointed.

"That's _it_?" he asked, incredulous.

"That's it." Don nodded, smiling with satisfaction. "Come on." He rushed to the door, yanking his bo from its holder. With a quick shove, he'd opened the door and darted inside, dropping immediately into an attack stance. Before Mike was even fully into the room, Don's bo swung out. Mikey stepped through the door way in time to see two Foot soldiers slump to the ground, unconscious.

"Nice job, Donny," said Leo shortly.

"What about dis clown?" asked Raphael. He gestured with a sai to a man huddled in the corner, looking as pale and shaky as a bowl full of marshmallows.

"Please! Can you help me?" The man straightened, leaning hard against the wall. He was still white and sweating, but he looked at Leo directly. "I'm being held prisoner!"

"We'll get you out, but you have to tell us if you have any information about this operation," said Leonardo sternly. "We need to find the printing plates."

"They just cut the bills up here," said the man, obviously gathering courage from Leonardo's assurance of help. "I think the presses are downstairs. I hear them running sometimes."

"The plates will be with the presses, Leo," said Don quickly. "We'll have to get down there, grab them, and get the shell out of here. We need to do this before the sensor array comes back online."

"They've got more of those guys in the black outfits down there," said the man, quivering when Leo looked at him directly. "I saw them when they brought me up here."

"Have you seen any other parts of the building?" asked Don.

The man shook his head. "Just the hall, and the stairs. At the end of this hall," he babbled. "They bring me up here in the mornings. At night they lock me in a room. I think it used to be an office. It's got a cot…" Leo raised his hand and he trailed off, flinching.

"Why did they bring you here? What do you do?" asked Donatello.

"I can tell the fake bills from the real ones. That Karai woman seemed to think I'm some kinda expert." The man was sweating now. "I'm just a bartender. This is too much crazy for me. All you nuts running around in costumes… I mean, the guys in black were bad enough… Look, I just want to get the hell out of New York. Can you guys get me out of here? Who _are_ you guys, anyway?"

"We're jus' some citizens of New York, tryin' ta keep da place clean," said Raphael with a feral grin. "An' you never saw us, ya got dat?" He twirled a sai on his wrist.

"O… o… ok," the man stammered. "You got it. Never saw no guys wearing crazy turtle costumes. Never saw nothin'."

"Ok, Don, you me and Raph'll go after the plates. Mikey, you get this guy out of here, and we'll all meet at the rendezvous point in twenty minutes."

"All right, Leo." Michelangelo nodded, though he didn't like the idea of separating from his brothers. With the clock ticking down, this wasn't the time to argue.

"You, Mr…" Leonardo looked expectantly at the man.

"Oh! Uh, Harpur," the guy stammered, his blue eyes flickering between Mikey, Raph and Leo. "Benjamin Harpur."

"Ok, Mr. Harpur. This is my brother, Michelangelo. He's going to lead you out of here. You stick close to him and do what he says and he'll make sure you get out, ok?"

"Yessir." The man nodded.

"Let's go, Dude," said Mikey, but the man stayed frozen in place until the others filed out of the room. He looked from the empty doorway to Michelangelo, blinking.

"They… where'd they go?" he asked.

"To mess up Karai's little operation," said Mikey. "Don't worry. We do this kind of stuff a lot."

"They'll be killed. Those guys in black, they're nuts," gasped the man. "And they're some kind of martial arts experts…"

"Uh, dude, maybe you didn't notice, but we're kick-butt ninjas. Don't worry. My bros can handle themselves. Right now you and me need to clear outta here."

"Ok." Benjamin straightened. "Thanks, uh…"

"Mikey." Michelangelo grinned. "Battle Nexus Champion, hero to the multi-verse, at your service. Now come _on_." He held out his hand. The man half-cringed, shrinking away from him.

Mikey rolled his eyes. "Dude. Not the time to get squeamish. I don't bite, honest. Now, do you wanna get outta here or not?"

"Sorry," muttered the man. "I just… well, I've never seen anything like you before in my life. That… that isn't a costume, is it?"

"Well, we're pretty unique," answered Mike with a cocky grin, ignoring the question.

"Unique, he says," muttered the man, but he stepped forward out of the corner, skirting the fallen Foot soldiers. He looked at Mikey expectantly.

"Ok. What's the plan?"

"Follow me." Michelangelo nodded toward the door. "Stick close."

The man swallowed hard, nodding, and came cautiously closer. "Ok, let's go."

Mikey led him without incident back through the office they'd broken into, out the window and down the fire escape. Benjamin landed on the pavement with a _thump_, flinching violently when Mike put a hand on his shoulder to steady him.

"Ok, Dude, you're out," said Michelangelo. "For obvious reasons, I can't take you to the police station, but I think you'd better head there, ok?"

Benjamin shook his head. "I'm getting out of this town," he said. "I'll go back to the Club, grab what I need, and I'll be out of town on the next bus. You… you don't have to worry, ok? I meant what I said. I never saw you guys."

"Thanks, Dude," said Mikey with an easy grin. _Who'd believe you if you did tell?_

"Thank _you_, uh, Mike." Benjamin held out his hand.

Michelangelo stared for a few seconds before he reached out, grasping the man's hand cautiously. He felt a shiver run through the man but he met his gaze steadily and shook his hand.

"I owe you my life," said Benjamin. He let go of Mikey's hand, and turned, walking away briskly before Michelangelo could think of a reply.


	55. Chapter 54 War

**A/N: As usual, italics indicate the speakers are conversing in Japanese. Italics without quotes are internal dialogue- the pov character's thoughts. But you knew that already, right? So on with the story... ;)**

* * *

**Chapter 54 ~_War_~**

Kichida Daichi fought an internal battle as he glared at the screen. He was tempted, sorely tempted, to turn and cut down the incompetent technician currently standing at attention behind him. He could feel the man trembling.

_Man… faugh. He's hardly more than a boy. _

"_Fool_!" he snapped, causing the tech to start violently. "_See, here? The array has been interfered with, set to a pulse timer rather than constant monitoring! How could you have missed this?"_

"_I… I don't know, Sir_," answered the unfortunate tech. "_I__… I checked the system every hour, just as Yamada-san ordered_."

_Ah, passing the blame to your superior. It seems you have learned well_, thought Daichi with a sneer. _Not well enough._

"_Go. Sound the alarm_," he said coldly.

"_Hai_." The tech bowed smartly and left the room with impressive speed.

_I will deal with him later. Now I have more important matters to attend to,_ thought Daichi. _If Masaru finds out about this, he'll have _all_ our heads. He's been on edge since he encountered the Turtles and was injured. Well, at least I can blame that foolish tech and Yamada Gorou. Sorry, Gorou, old friend, but when it comes to saving my neck from Masaru's blade, I will do whatever it takes. _

Quickly, Daichi reset the program that ran the sensor system, not bothering to run a diagnostics check. The computer beeped and whirred obediently as the man stood, stalking out of the room. He hesitated in the hall, glancing to the left toward the printing room, but the low hum of the printing machines reassured him that all was well there, so he turned right and headed for the stairs. Best to begin his checks from the top and work down. That way he could see for himself if the sensors had come back on line properly.

Daichi cat-footed down the hall toward the first cutting room, his soft-soled feet making no sound on the thin carpet. All seemed quiet, but as he approached the only locked door on the floor, he frowned. Not only was the door not locked, it stood _open _a few inches, and slight charring around the handle indicated it had been tampered with. Cold sweat broke out over the man's body. He reached out, cautiously pushing open the door. It swung easily, but stopped as if it had hit something. Daichi dropped into a crouch, ready to defend himself, but nothing moved in the room. It was silent. Too silent.

_There should be two guards, and the prisoner! _Ice seemed to flow through his veins as he rushed forward, all caution forgotten. As soon as he stepped into the room, Daichi saw the guards sprawled on the floor. He reached instantly for his communicator.

"_Alert! Alert! Intruders! All soldiers report to the printing rooms! Alert!"_

Not bothering to check if the men on the floor lived or not, he turned and raced toward the stairs. _If something goes wrong with the press, Karai will have _all_ our heads…_

The printing room door was still firmly closed, the machinery humming inside, when Daichi skidded to a halt outside. Four other Foot were waiting for him, their masks making their expressions impassive, though he knew their hearts had to be pounding as hard as his own.

"_Only four? Where are the others?" _he demanded.

"_We do not know, Sir. We heard the alert and responded_," replied the one nearest.

"_The guards are down upstairs. The prisoner is gone,_" said Daichi. One of the soldiers started toward the stairs. _"Fool! We must check the presses! If anything happens to the printers, Karai will destroy us_ all!_" _

"_Our orders are to guard the prisoner,_" snapped Katsuo, the soldier in charge of the group of guards. He motioned to the others, and they raced for the stairs. Daichi swore, but didn't bother to argue. _His_ priority was the precious machine that represented the soul of the operation. Without the press, the prisoner would be useless. He slid his identity card through the slot, and the door _clicked_. Giving the door a shove, he stood back, awaiting an ambush. Nothing moved. All seemed normal. The printing press was humming quietly, the _slap_ of paper rushing along the rollers as usual. Daichi moved slowly into the room, checking carefully for intruders, but seeing no one.

Daichi frowned and moved closer. The smell of ink seemed sharper than normal, and something… wasn't quite right, in the sound the paper was making as it rolled through the system. He'd been working with the thing for months now, and knew its sounds as well as a mother knows her child's voice. He rushed to the press. His eyes went wide behind the mask, and he felt as if the oxygen had been sucked from the room.

The sheets were sliding into the tray, as they were supposed to, the ink glistening in the light, but the paper, instead of being imprinted with US currency, were solidly coated with the green ink. He reached out, as if in a daze, and pushed the emergency cut-off button. The press obediently stopped turning out pages.

He picked one up, staring at it, as if the ink would melt away, revealing the design that was supposed to be there, but it remained solidly green, mocking him.

"_The plates… The printing plates…" _he mumbled. "_They are gone. We are lost. All is lost… They've come and stolen the plates, and Karai is going to kill us all._"

Daichi sank to his knees, clutching the sheet of green paper. All he could see was the green, glistening on the paper, mocking him. Green as a Turtle's skin. It was… almost beautiful.

There was a blur of movement, more felt than seen or heard, to his left, and he spun, ducking instinctively, just in time to dodge the end of a bo staff. Daichi backed up against the wall; drawing the short sword he wore at his side. He was intensely grateful for the black hood that hid the way the blood drained from his face at the sight of sharp, determined brown eyes behind a purple mask.

If his situation hadn't been so dire, he might've laughed. The dull-skinned Turtle had bright green smudges smeared across his chest and the ink contrasted with his skin, creating an oddly mottled pattern.

_Let's see if blood washes away ink,_ thought Daichi, refusing to consider the possibility the blood spilt might be his own. He lunged, but the Turtle blocked the strike as if he were swatting away a fly.

_They travel in a pack,_ Daichi remembered his sensei admonishing him in training. _Never assume there is only one enemy._

He whirled in time to parry a blow from a katana.

"I've got this, Donny," said the blue-masked warrior that he now faced. "Finish what you were doing."

The Turtle's grim confidence turned Daichi's blood to ice, but he swallowed the fear rising in his throat and backed away a step, sizing up the Turtle. He could see the creature's immense strength in the way the muscles rippled under its skin. If he weren't in a fight for his life, he might've admired the creature's skill and the steady way it handled the sword in its hand, watching him intently, searching for an opening.

Daichi felt a thrill, in spite of his fear. _Here_ was a worthy opponent, one worth fighting, one that would bring him eternal honor if he managed to take its life. Surely Karai would honor anyone who could bring her the leader's head above all others. The Turtle shifted in its stance, its eyes narrowing slightly behind the mask. Its muscles bunched, and Daichi swallowed hard. He felt the hope of honor draining away. He would settle for surviving this encounter.

A shout from the hall distracted the blue-masked Turtle for an instant. The purple-banded one looked up as well from where he was elbows-deep in the printing press.

"Raph!" The one in purple called. "You ok?"

"I got dis, Donny!" came a heavily accented answer. There was a clash of steel and the sounds of blows. Daichi took advantage of the momentary distraction to press an attack. He actually _saw_ the Turtle's expression change from distracted concern to attention to fury as it dodged his blade. He managed to knick its bicep, but he'd managed to give it little more than a scratch, and Daichi was immediately aware that he had wounded a very dangerous creature. He dropped into a defensive crouch.

_Perhaps I cannot beat this creature in a physical battle,_ he thought. _But a ninja has other weapons._

"Fool!" he said, forcing confidence into his voice. "Would you trade the safety of your women for success?"

"What are you _talking _about?" snapped the Turtle, glaring dangerously.

"Do you think the Foot will not find them?" Daichi smiled behind his mask when he saw the purple-masked Turtle look up from his work. "You have interfered with Karai's plans too many times. Even without Hun, we will find you and destroy you. Unless you leave now, without the printing plates, your miserable clan, your women and your children, all of you will be destroyed!"

The purple-banded Turtle stood, turning away from the press.

_It's working!_ Daichi cheered internally. _The fools. Masaru was right. Their value of life above all else will be their undoing._

"Why has Karai partnered with the Purple Dragons?" asked the one in blue. His eyes glittered, and Daichi had the first sense of unease, as if he'd poked at a hornet's nest and found a rattlesnake.

"To destroy you all," he sneered. "You creatures have caused enough trouble_._ Masaru will lead us to victory!"

"Masaru lives?" The purple-masked one had drawn his bo, and now Daichi was facing _two _furious Turtles.

"Did you think he was so easily defeated?" Daichi scoffed. He saw the burning brown eyes narrow behind the purple mask.

"Then Karai's forces have declared war on our clan?" asked the other Turtle quietly.

Daichi felt himself pale. It was one thing to threaten and taunt the Turtles. To declare war on an enemy clan was serious business, and making any such statement was certain to be seen as a serious breech.

"Do I know Karai's intentions?" he forced confidence into his voice. "Surely you must realize your own vulnerability. Even the most lowly of soldiers have heard of the abduction of one of your women by her own father."

"_Begin by seizing something your opponent holds dear_," muttered the blue-masked Turtle bitterly. "_And then he will be amenable to your will_."

_What? These creatures are _literate_? _Daichi stared, stunned for a moment. _He quotes the great Sun Tzu. _

He felt the first chills of real fear creeping up his spine, but tried to shake off his doubts.

"What is Masaru planning?" demanded the one in purple, giving Daichi something to focus on, to re-direct his fear into bravado.

He raised his chin. "I will tell you nothing, _kame_."

The one in purple growled, moving forward, but before Daichi could react, the point of a katana was pressed against his throat. Dark eyes peered into his from the other end of a shining expanse of deadly steel. Daichi barely dared move. He swallowed hard.

_So, I am to die by the kame's blade after all. I commit my spirit to my ancestors…_

"You will go to Karai. You will tell her to meet us at the warehouse in one hour. We will discuss this matter." The voice was cold as the steel that pressed against Daichi's throat, the point pricking his skin. "Do you understand?"

Daichi heard the words, but it took him a moment to realize the Turtle was making him an offer. The chance to live, in exchange for delivering the message to Karai.

_Masaru will not be pleased,_ thought Daichi. _Especially if it becomes necessary to allow Karai to know the Turtles are aware of our alliance with the street gang._

His eyes met the burning dark gaze of the Turtle and he swallowed involuntarily. He felt the faint tickle of blood trickling under his hood and knew the deadly blade had nicked his skin.

"I… understand," he whispered hoarsely.

The Turtle held his gaze for an instant longer before nodding, accepting the bargain.

"One hour."

And with that, they were gone.


	56. Chapter 55 Transport

**Chapter 55 ~_Transport~_**

Janey shifted on the bed, watching as Lucille gathered up her things into a box.

"Are you sure you have the photo Austin gave me?" asked Janey. "I want to see it again."

"I know, Dear, but we should put that one away until we get home, all right?"

Janey nodded. "I want to hold the baby," she said sadly.

"I know you do. Don't worry, Austin will come and visit us in New Jersey."

"With her husband? Michelangelo?"

"That's right." Lucille turned to the frail figure on the bed, coming close and grasping her hand. "Austin promised she'll come as soon as she can, ok? They have some… business, to take care of in the city first."

Janey nodded. "Good. From the way you've described them, I'm a little afraid to meet him, but I want to see my granddaughter before I die. She has Austin's eyes. I can hardly believe it. If I hadn't seen the photo…" She shook her head with a faint smile. "I still can't believe it's not a dream. I never thought I'd see my little girl again."

"I know. She's safe now, Janey, and so happy. I wish you could see her home," said Lucille. "And Michelangelo… he's certainly different, but under the exterior, Janey he's as human as you and I. And he's in love with her, it's easy to see."

"She's so happy. I couldn't say it to Austin, Janey, but I'm worried about her. You'll look after her, won't you? I wish I were stronger. I want to see her home before we go."

"I know. Don't worry, Janey, I promise; she's very happy, and well taken care of. They're an amazing family. Not like anything I ever could have imagined, but more normal in some ways than what we've ever had."

Janey smiled faintly. "I'm sure you're right," she said. "It was a bit of a shock, finding out who she's married to, but… but if Michelangelo is all that you say, I know he'll be good to her."

"He _is_ good to her, you'll see for yourself."

"I'd like to meet his father. Splinter. What an unusual name."

"Yes. He's a very unique person," said Lucille. Realizing her sister was smiling at her, she met her gaze and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"You like him, don't you?" Janey managed another weak smile. Her green eyes shone. "Imagine, after all these years."

"I…" Lucille stared at her sister, shocked. "How did you know?"

"You're not wearing your necklace," said Janey softly, a contented smile resting on her lips. "And the way you looked when Austin talked about him… You used to look that way when someone mentioned Robert, but you were so sad all the time. Now you seem so… so happy. He would be happy for you, Luci. I know he would. You weren't meant to be alone. Even if you're in love with a… a mutant." Janey shook her head. "I still can't get used to the idea," she murmured.

"Splinter is an amazing man," said Luci. "But I've never been alone. I've always had my sister," replied Lucille, squeezing Janey's hand. "Are you sure you're all right with all this, Janey? I know it's a lot to take in."

"You've always been so good to me, Luci." Janey leaned back against the elevated bed, closing her eyes. "And all I've ever wanted for Austin is for her to be happy."

"She is," Lucille assured her. "Happier than I've ever known her to be. She's a lucky girl, Janey."

"Love you, Luci-Rosey-Posey."

"I love you too, Janey-the-pain."

Janey smiled at the childhood nicknames. "I'm tired. I think I'd like to rest now."

"You do that, Sweetheart. I can pack up the rest of these things later. I'll just bustle on over to the hotel and pick up the rest of my things, all right? I'll be back before the service comes to take you home. The hospital's arranged for a van with a helper and a driver to take you back to New Jersey. I can even ride with you. It's not normally allowed, but Beverly said they made special arrangements."

"I'd like that." Janey smiled again, but Lucille could see she was already drifting off. "I'd like to go home. Luci?"

"Yes, dear?"

"Can we put up the Christmas tree? When Austin comes with her baby, I want them to have a Christmas tree."

"Of course we can. You just rest now and I'll be back very soon."

"All right."

Lucille slipped out of the room, dimming the lights as she left. She stopped for a moment at the main desk.

"Hi Elizabeth."

The young woman looked up, and smiled. "Lucille. How is your sister?"

"She's resting for now. Listen, I'm going to run to the hotel for an hour or so, then I'll be back to finish packing her things. The van should be arriving to take her home by four."

"Ok." Elizabeth nodded. "I'll be sure to watch for them. Angel, right?"

"That's right. Her appearance is a bit… outlandish, but she seems like a nice young woman." Lucille smiled. "I hope we might see Beverly before we go. Janey really took a shine to her. Such a dear young woman."

"Yes. Isn't your niece married to Bev's brother-in-law?" asked Elizabeth. "Her husband sounds so soft-spoken on the phone, but I've never gotten to meet him. She says he works a lot of odd hours."

Lucille nodded, suppressing a grin. "They're very hard-working boys," she said mildly.

"Bev's a lucky girl," said Elizabeth. "Good men aren't easy to find in this City. I'm lucky I met Jim before we moved here."

Lucille nodded again, smiling. _They're not _that_ hard to find,_ she thought. _You just have to know where to look._

"I'll see you in a little while. Do call if you need anything," said Elizabeth with a smile.

"Thank you, dear," answered Luci. She squeezed the young woman's hand warmly before heading off down the hall.

She looked around carefully before stepping out of the hospital onto the sidewalk, but saw no young people with purple dragon tattoos snaking up their arms, and no sign of anyone who looked remotely threatening.

_Austin said the Foot ninja sometimes go about in disguise,_ she remembered. _But you can tell by their eyes. They are hard and cold…_ she shivered. _Well, that applies to many New Yorkers, but I guess if I worry about everyone in the city being an enemy ninja, I'd never get back to the hotel._

She dug in her purse for the keys to her rental car. It was exactly as she'd left it, parked safely in the hospital's main lot. She quickly checked underneath and glanced into the back seat before climbing in. The motor purred to life, and Lucille grinned at her own fears as she backed out of the space and drove off smoothly toward the hotel.

Choosing a spot near the entrance, she took another look around before stepping out of the car and locking it carefully.

_It's a good thing I packed so lightly. We're so lucky to have found this transport service. I wasn't sure of that Angel girl. That purple hair! But she seems very nice. I'm sure Janey will like her. _

Luci smiled at the man behind the front desk, and took the elevator to the third floor. She slipped her card into the slot and stepped inside. Everything was just as she'd left it. She fetched her suitcase from the closet and quickly emptied the dresser of the few clothes she'd brought along. She fetched her few personal belongings from the bathroom and tucked them into her small satchel. Making one last sweep of the room, she paused, frowning.

_I don't remember leaving a cup on the dresser… What on earth…_ She moved closer, and her breath caught in her throat. On the dresser was a plastic cup from the bathroom, with a few inches of water in the bottom, and a small bouquet of flowers, dark red chrysanthemums, with a perfect daisy in the center.

She lifted the cup carefully, breathing deep of the fragrance. Tucked into the bunch of flowers was a small, folded slip of paper. The creases were worn, as if it had been folded, and re-folded several times. The English lettering had been done with a brush, in careful, deliberate strokes.

_Who travels for love finds a thousand miles not longer than one._

Tears stung her eyes as she sniffed at the daisy's delicate scent. Lucille quickly fetched some paper towels from the bathroom, dampening them, and retrieved a clean plastic bag from the trash. She wrapped the delicate bunch up, wrapping the wet towels around the stems to keep them fresh, and putting the whole thing in the plastic bag, careful not to crush the flowers. She felt an unexpectedly sharp pang.

_I'll be back soon_, she thought, looking around the once-again empty and impersonal room one last time. _I have to take care of Janey. I know he understands. _

She picked up her suitcase and satchel and headed back downstairs. Checking out took only a few minutes, and before long she was on her way to the agency to turn in her rental car. That done, she took a cab to the hospital.

Janey was awake when she arrived, and looking well rested. The purple-haired young woman from the transport service was standing near the head of her bed, looking over her shoulder at a picture Janey was holding in her lap.

"…my daughter," Janey was saying. "She looks so much like her father."

"Hello," said Lucille. She felt a chill, and watched the young woman warily.

_Oh dear. I hope Janey didn't show her the photo of Austin and Skylar…_

"Hiya Mrs. Chesney. Mrs. Abramson here says she's all ready ta go, but she wouldn't budge without ya." The young woman smiled, snapping her gum.

"I hope I haven't kept you waiting long," said Lucille. "I had a few things to take care of."

"Not at all, ma'am. I haven't been here long," replied Angel. "Is dis one box all her stuff, or do we need the driver ta come up and help haul stuff down to the van?"

"This is all of it," said Lucille. There was something casual about the way the young woman acted, too familiar, somehow, that was making her uneasy. She went to the other side of Janey's bed.

"How are you feeling, Janey?" she asked gently. "Are you ready to go home?"

"I'm still a little tired but I feel very well," answered Janey. "This delightful young woman is coming with us, isn't she?"

"That's right." Lucille leaned over just far enough to identify the photo still in her sister's hands. Janey's hand covered Skylar, but Lucille's breath still caught in her throat and her heartbeat sped up.

"Why don't I just put this in the box for you, Janey, so you don't lose it, ok?"

"I'd rather hold on to it, Luci, dear. I want to keep Austin and my darling granddaughter near me," said Janey.

"I… would just hate to see you lose it," said Lucille, glancing toward Angel, who was watching the exchange shrewdly.

Tears slid down Janey's cheeks. "I want my daughter with me," she said.

"It's ok, Mrs. Chesney," said Angel. "She can hold onta it. I'll make sure she don't lose it."

Lucille met the young woman's gaze, her suspicions jelling into fear.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

The young woman shifted, a sort of guilty recognition flashing through her eyes. Lucille leaned over Janey, reaching for the nurse's call button. "Don't you come near my sister!"

"Hey, hey take it easy." Angel held up her hands. "I'm jus' the hired help aroun' here."

"You saw the picture of Janey's granddaughter?" Lucille watched the girl, ready to defend Janey at any cost.

"She's a friend, Luci," protested Janey. "Such a nice young woman."

"I saw da picture," admitted Angel. She smiled and reached for her back pocket. Luci snatched up the call button and she froze.

"Look. I jus' wanna show ya somet'in, all right? It's ok, I promise. I aint' here ta hurt ya, or yer sister."

Lucille watched her suspiciously. When she didn't answer, Angel nodded.

"Ok, I'm gonna jus' reach in my pocket real slow-like, ok? I'm jus' gettin' my cell out. I wanna show ya somet'in."

Lucille's eyes never left the girl's face as she reached into her back pocket and pulled out a slim cell-phone. Holding it up so that Lucille could see what she was doing, she punched a few buttons.

"There, see? It's ok." She held it out so that Lucille could see the screen.

Lucille stared. The tiny picture was clear. A man was smiling into the camera. Leaning over his shoulder, smirking, was Raphael.

"Da guy's my uncle. Casey Jones. I t'ink ya met 'im. An' ya know Raphael, right?" Lucille looked at Angel. The girl was watching her somewhat warily. "Ya want me ta call da guys so ya can check?" she asked. They asked us ta do dis. Ya know, so ya'd be safe."

"I thought… the hospital arranged the transport…"

Angel nodded. "Beverly." She smirked. "It was Master Splinter's idea, but Donny an' Raph helped Casey get da van an' stuff together. They wanted ta make sure Austin's ma'd make it home safe."

Lucille shook her head. "Why didn't they just tell me?" she asked.

"'Cause they thought ya might be too proud ta accept help," said Angel with a shrug. "They're a funny buncha guys."

"They really are something else," muttered Lucille, but she smiled. "I'm sorry I doubted you Angel. I'm certain Janey couldn't be in better hands."

"So we're cool?" Angel flashed Lucille a smile.

The woman nodded. "We're… cool."

Angel laughed at that.

"Ok then. The boss lady said we could use this bed to wheel her downstairs. Casey's got the van outfitted real nice for her. We had to call in a couple favors, but he got one o' them nice stretcher things like they use in an ambulance, an' Bev tricked it out. It'll be like yer ridin' on a cloud, Mrs. Abramson."

Janey smiled. "Thank you, Angel."

"No problem, Mrs. A." Angel grinned. "Let's get you home."


	57. Chapter 56 Appointment

**Chapter 56 ~_Appointment~_**

Donatello's fury was smoldering, a slow, searing burn that ached through his chest and clamped his fingers so tightly around his bo his knuckles were grayish instead of a healthy green. They were racing across the rooftops, heading in the direction of the warehouse. Leonardo had insisted on dropping the plates off at the local police station. Don waited, silent as a stone gargoyle, as the officers responded to the anonymous call and came outside to pick up the incongruous, cloth-wrapped bundle from the station's front steps, but thoughts churned through his mind.

_Masaru is alive. He's alive and I've sent Isamu back… back to the humans who can't protect him. Back out there into the world alone. I promised to protect him. I gave my _word_ of honor. And now we're all in danger. _He barely heard the heated argument behind him.

_Why're we doin' dis, Fearless?_ Raphael had growled. _Arrangin' a meetin' wit' her? _

_Raph. You know what's at stake._

_Yeah,_ thought Don bitterly as he took the jump to the next roof. _Our family's lives. At least we can defend them, keep them underground, fight for them. I sent Isamu back, into the human world. He's so young, so _vulnerable_. If anything happens to him, I'll never forgive myself._

He misjudged the next leap, going too far, so that he had to dodge a vent cover sticking up, and stumbled.

"Don, you ok?" Michelangelo reached out, grabbing his elbow and steadying him.

"Fine. Thanks," replied Donatello through gritted teeth. He kept going, letting the rhythm of his run pound his anger out into the tarpaper and bricks. _How could I have been so _stupid?

"Leo knows what he's doing, Don." Michelangelo's voice carried clearly, though neither of them slowed down.

"I know." He could see feel the weight of his son in his arms, see Beverly's smile when he walked into a room… Another face flashed into his mind, the boy's eyes, staring so trustingly into his own. The thought of the cruel Masaru, the Foot, finding him…

_I really thought Mikey'd killed him. I should've made _sure…

The warehouse came into view, and he sped up, dashing across the last rooftop.

"Donny, _wait!_" Leonardo's voice snapped out, cracking through the chilled air like a whip. Years of conditioning had Don stopping, turning to look at his brother. He fell into a defensive crouch without even thinking, bringing his bo to bear. It took Leonardo's frown to bring him back to himself. He sheathed his bo, straightening deliberately.

"We've got to _plan_," said Leonardo. "We can't just go storming in there. It's going to be a trap…"

"I know how Karai works, Leo." Don's voice was cold, clipped. "Let's just do this."

Leonardo paused, looking at his brother, his brown eyes narrow behind his mask.

"Donny…" Michelangelo laid a hand on his shoulder, but Don shook his head, shrugging him off.

"We've got to put a stop to this now," said Donatello. "Leo, they're _not _threatening our _family_ and getting away with it."

"I know, Donny," said Leonardo softly, nodding. "And we _will._ But we need to see what we're up against. We can't just rush in half-cocked."

Donatello stared at his brother. The anger made him want to argue, but the logical part of his brain was telling him Leonardo was right. Finally he nodded.

"Ok. So here's what we do." Leonardo motioned for the others to come closer. Donatello stepped stiffly near.

"We've got to get inside, unseen. I think the window we've used before is our best bet," said Leonardo.

"Dude, we've already gone in that way like, twice. You sure they don't know that?" asked Michelangelo.

"Mike's right, Leo. I think we should try a new strategy," said Donatello.

"Whatdaya got in mind, Genius?" interjected Raphael. "Ya t'ink we should jus' go stormin' in da front door?"

Donatello nodded grimly. "Something like that."

"Don…" Leonardo began, but stopped when Donatello looked at him. "Ok. What are you thinking?" he asked seriously.

The purple-masked Turtle took a deep, steadying breath.

"Ok, we know they're expecting us," he said, leaning in close. "Mike goes in through the roof. There's a vent cover, here, you should be able to climb down. Create a distraction. Raph can enter through the window and drop down on them from above. Leo, you and I will go in through the front and draw Karai's attention. Keep them disorganized, that way they won't be able to form a solid attack."

Leonardo was staring at him as if he'd gone out of his mind. "No. You know Karai will blame you for taking the plates. You've still got ink all over you. You'd be just about inviting her to attack!"

Donatello looked directly at his brother. "Leo, we don't have the plates. You know Karai isn't going to play fair anyway. The only way to handle this is to show her we can take whatever she throws at us."

"Donny, what's gotten into you? What is this really about?" Leonardo watched his brother. The gold flecks in his brown eyes glinted.

Don met his gaze steadily. "Leo, they're planning to attack our _family_. The girls can't hide out below ground forever. And the kids…" he shook his head. "We've got to face this head-on. It's not going to go away."

Leonardo nodded. "I know, Donny," he said softly. "And I know how you and Mike feel. You've got kids now, I get that. But we're _all_ part of this family. We're a _team_, and we're going to do this together, ok? Listen… your plan has some good points. We can work with this." He smiled. "But you're a marked Turtle." Leo reached out, touching Don's plastron and showing him the ink that rubbed off on his finger. "So you don't get to storm the front gates, ok? Raph and I will make the big entrance. You and Mike can take the job of distracting and disarming as many soldiers as possible. Just be careful. Even if Karai shows up herself, Masaru's bound to be here as well."

Leo's knowing look told Donatello he hadn't forgotten what the man's presence meant to Don.

Donatello nodded slowly. _I'd have a better chance at getting to Masaru from there, anyway. He's likely hiding behind the Foot soldiers like the coward he is…_

"All right."

Leonardo held out a fist, and the others bumped it lightly. "Let's go."

They moved across the roof like four ghosts, blending into the shadows. Leonardo nodded to the youngest two brothers, and they split off, heading for the roof while Leo and Raph swung down the fire escape. Don moved with swift precision, heading straight for the vent. He looked up, meeting his brother's eyes.

"Ready to do this, Mike?"

The orange-masked Turtle nodded grimly. "You got it, Bro. We're gonna take care of this, Donny. That dude don't get to threaten our family."

"You've got that right." Donatello smiled grimly. "Come on."

They slipped in through the vent, cautious with their movements to avoid making any sound or even vibration against the structure of the building that could give them away. Below, Donatello made out at least twenty Foot soldiers crouching behind the very crates in the same space he and his brothers had taken refuge the last time they'd entered the warehouse. The Foot hadn't bothered to clean up the smashed packing crate, Donatello noticed. He smirked. Masaru wouldn't soon forget meeting Michelangelo.

_And this time he won't get away so easily. This time we make _sure _he gets the message, _thought Don.

He spotted his brothers, picking their way along the catwalk until they were halfway along the wall. Leonardo stood up, drawing his katana with a deliberate _schting_.

"Karai! We are here. Come out and face us."

Donatello almost whistled. Leonardo had a knack for the "leader voice", a tone that projected strength and confidence, with the slightest undertone of contempt for the enemy. It was effective.

There was the faint shuffling of movement below, and Donatello tensed. He reached up and slipped on the night-vision goggles to give him the advantage of better visibility in the dark building. To his surprise and disgust, the figure moving forward from the crowd of Foot soldiers was not the slight form of Karai.

Masaru limped forward. "Did you believe Oroku Karai would trouble to come here herself?" he sneered. "You have made our job easier, _Leonardo_, leading your brothers directly into our hands. The destruction of your pitiful clan begins this very night, with yourselves!"

"We did not come to trade insults with Karai's minions," replied Leo, sounding unimpressed. "If the Foot wish to challenge us, then we are ready."

"Foolish Turtle!" shouted Masaru, drawing himself up to his full height. "If you wish to discuss peace, you will return that which you stole from Karai!"

Don scanned the space, looking for an opening. _If I could just reach Masaru, I'll make _sure_ he never threatens our family, or any innocent, ever again_, thought Don grimly. He noticed that more Foot were hidden from where his brothers stood, crouching behind the crates, ready to attack.

Motioning to his brother, Donatello pointed.

Mikey nodded. "Let's go," he whispered, tugging a nunchuck from his belt.

"Where is Karai, Masaru?" demanded Leonardo. "We will not barter with _you_."

"Come down and we will discuss the exchange," sneered the man. "The plates, in return for your lives!"

Leonardo flipped over the railing, landing with a solid _thud_. He straightened, his dark eyes never leaving Masaru's face.

"This conversation can only end in your defeat. I'm offering you an opportunity to return to Karai and deliver a message," he said coldly. "She does not want to challenge us. Withdraw this declaration, before more people die. Before innocents are involved. Before the city is damaged in an all-out clan war."

Donatello and Michelangelo crept along the catwalk to the pole they'd used before. Like shadows, they slipped to the floor. Donatello kept an eye on the Foot soldiers, but they were all watching the exchange between their leader and the blue-banded Turtle.

Mike moved along the wall, slipping up behind the first small clutch of men and knocking all three out with swift _smacks_ of his 'chucks. The men slid boneless to the floor and Michelangelo gave Don a thumbs up and a wide grin.

Donatello shook his head, moving silently toward a larger group. He dealt with four of them before the others noticed what was happening. One drew a sword; another lunged forward with a dragon-punch. Before he was anywhere near, Don's bo snapped out, connecting solidly with his head.

"Longer weapon wins, doofus," he muttered, smiling grimly.

He and Michelangelo made short work of the group. Don found himself facing off with three more Foot. Suddenly the soldiers stiffened and backed away. Don smirked in satisfaction for an instant before his common sense took over and he realized there had to be a _reason_ the Foot would back off. He backed up so that his shell was pressed against the crate, to guard against having anyone sneak up behind him. At his right, Michelangelo copied his maneuver.

"Whatsa matter, Dudes," Mikey taunted. "Afraid we're gonna kick yer butts?"

"Don, Mike!"

The sudden clash of metal on metal had Donatello's head snapping around. More soldiers were pouring into the warehouse, and Leonardo and Raphael were fighting, back to back, making their way cautiously toward their brother's position while handling their attackers with confidence.

_It's a trap. I knew it. He set us up._ Donatello growled. Thinking fast, he spun, and kicked the edge of the crate they were pressed against, breaking one side so that it fell open.

"_Donny!_"

He spun around in time to see Michelangelo's nunchuck chain wrap around the tip of a blade, inches from his head. The blade was yanked from the owner's hands and flung aside before it registered in his mind how close he'd just been to death.

"Thanks, Bro." He leapt for a snap-kick, taking out the stunned soldier who was still wondering where his sword had gone.

Donatello threw himself into the melee, facing down several grinning fighters who he realized with a shock were Purple Dragons.

_Great. Just great._ Don smiled grimly as he saw Mike's nunchucks flash out, taking out another fighter neatly.

"Is that all you got?" called Michelangelo, laughing. Donatello shook his head. His younger brother's cockiness in battle often disconcerted the enemy, and nearly as often got him into trouble, as it drew the ire of the enemy.

"Leo, where's Masaru?" he called, without breaking the rhythm of his kicks and the swing of his bo staff. He was holding most of the PD's at bay now.

"He got the shell out of the way when these guys showed up, Donny," answered Raphael.

"We've got to find him," insisted Donatello. "Leo, we can't let him get away!"

"Don, you might've noticed, we've got all we can handle to get _ourselves_ out of here," Leo shot back.

Donatello started to answer, when out of the corner of his eye, he caught sight of Masaru. The man was sliding through the crowded space like an eel, limping rapidly toward a door.

"Leo, there!" He made a quick jump to the top of the crates. "I'm going after him!"

Leonardo's answer was lost in the shouts and thuds of battle. Don darted after the man, flipping off the crates and landing on the concrete floor, cutting off his flight. Masaru scowled, drawing his short sword from his side.

"Foolish Turtle," he snarled. "Did you think you could save yourselves?"

"Karai didn't order this at all, did she," snarled Donatello. "You're using it as an excuse to attack us, because my brother and I stopped you from killing the boy."

"He will die," said Masaru, his eyes glittering with malice. "First I will rid this city of _you_, then I will go and retrieve him from the _home_ you so conveniently placed him in for me."

Donatello brought his bo into an attack position. "You will not _touch_ him, Masaru! You will not touch my _family!_"

Masaru feinted, his blade whistling through the air. Don blocked the blow easily, bringing the end of his staff around to catch Masaru's side, knocking the man to the ground. In an instant, the bo was pressed to his throat, pinning him to the ground with a crushing pressure.

"Last chance. Will you call this off? Will you leave the boy alone?"

The man wheezed, gasping for breath.

"What… do you … care?" he gasped out. "What is he to you?"

"Will you?" Donatello wasn't even aware that he was shouting. He glared into the man's eyes.

"Donny!" Michelangelo's shout distracted Don's concentration for a precious instant. Masaru used the instant of deflection to knock the bo staff aside and roll away, coughing and clutching at his throat. Donatello followed with a growl, intent on recapturing his prisoner, but several Foot soldiers put themselves between the furious Turtle and their master.

"Masaru!" shouted Donatello. His bo snapped out, knocking two soldiers unconscious in quick succession. The third fell before he could strike.

Raphael gave him a grim smile.

"Don. We're out."

"Not until we take care of Masaru."

"He got away_,_ Genius. Let's go."

Donatello looked around, but the man was gone. The few remaining Foot ninja were vanishing like smoke into the shadows, apparently following their master's lead in retreating.

"C'm _on_, Donatello." Raphael grabbed his arm even as he started forward. Leonardo and Michelangelo were already on the catwalk. Leonardo engaged a Foot soldier who'd been foolish enough to try following him, knocking the man off the catwalk. He fell with a scream that ended with a choked noise and a groan when he hit the concrete below.

Raphael half-dragged Donatello up the pole, and the four ninja slipped out through the window, disappearing into the night.


	58. Chapter 57 Discussion

**Chapter 57 ~_Discussion_~**

Splinter heard the sounds of his sons' return in the faint rasping of a shell brushing against the brick before the door to the Lair opened. He remained in his position, waiting, although the father in him wanted to rush out, to examine his sons for injuries. He repressed the anxiety. They had been going out for years now, and always returned to him. Together they were a team, strong, united.

Footsteps padded nearly silent into the Lair. Bailey, long used to the Turtles' comings and goings, whined once and fell silent. One… two… three. Splinter's whisker's twitched. Three had returned. He shifted on the tatami mat, uneasy, but still he waited. The news, good or bad, would come to him. Chasing worry was not the warrior's way.

A murmur of voices and the sounds of footsteps on the stairs as his sons' wives came to greet their husbands. Beverly's voice changed, questioning, though Splinter couldn't quite make out the words. The dojo door slid open and closed quietly. The steady thud of someone taking out a good deal of frustration on a punching bag.

_Ah, so Raphael is home_, thought Splinter, with the first surge of relief. His red-banded son was the first to leap into trouble, and often the first and most grievously injured in battle.

Movement toward the kitchen, and the faint click and pop as the stove lit. A soft murmur of voices, and the clink of the pan of water being set on to heat.

_Leonardo. And Sierra is with him. Good. If anyone were severely injured or… missing, he would have come to me first. That he allows his wife to comfort him means that his brothers are safe._

Skylar's squeal of delight placed the final Turtle for Splinter. The baby had a special affinity for her father.

_So it is Donatello who has not returned. Perhaps he has gone to visit our human friend, April. It is unusual for him not to come home immediately after such a dangerous mission as they set out on tonight. He knows Beverly worries. _

Splinter sighed faintly and rose from the mat, stretching his stiff muscles. He went to the low chest of drawers and drew out a bundle of incense, choosing with care. Kneeling again at the table, he lit the stick carefully from one of the candles, and set it in its holder. The calming scent filled the room. Splinter sat down to meditate. When his son returned, he would be ready.

He waited while the evening passed peacefully and his family, one by one, made their way upstairs to bed. It was nearing midnight when the door opened once more, and Donatello's distinctly light footsteps moved into the Lair. Splinter waited. If Donatello had exorcised whatever demons had kept him from returning home with his brothers, he would slip quietly upstairs to his family. If not, he would come to his father. A light scratch on the door, and Splinter knew his decision to wait up had been the right one.

"Enter, my son."

Don came in slowly, cautiously, almost as if uncertain.

"Kneel."

The tatami scratched faintly against leather kneepads as Don obeyed. Splinter opened his eyes to search his son's face.

"You are troubled, _musuko_?"

The Japanese Splinter often used to express affection when his sons were smaller had the desired effect. Donatello drew a shuddering breath and raised his eyes to meet his father's gaze. To Splinter's surprise, neither grief nor anxiety troubled his son's spirit. He saw loss in the brown eyes, anger, and determination.

"What is it, my son?" he asked, striving to keep his tone even and calm. He knew the look in Donatello's eyes. The Turtle had made a decision he knew would displease his father, but was not going to be easily dissuaded. Splinter resolved to hear his son out before deciding whether to oppose him.

"We… confronted the Foot tonight, Father."

Splinter nodded. He knew.

"We were successful." Donatello's bitter tone belied his words. "The printing operation is destroyed. We retrieved the printing plates and turned them in to the authorities."

"You have done well, my son."

Splinter waited. He knew there was more to the story.

"Thank you, Father." Donatello bowed his head in acknowledgement, but his gaze came back up again almost immediately. "We confronted the man who attempted to take Isamu's life," he continued. The fury was closer to the surface now. "He still wishes to murder the boy, Father. The threat to his life still exists."

Splinter felt his heart constrict. Wary, dark eyes filled his memory, the way they'd changed, lit up with trust and fun… Sierra spinning, the little boy's laughter echoing through the dojo.

"The boy is unharmed, Father," said Donatello, as if he sensed his father's well-hidden anguish. He hesitated, and Splinter's attention sharpened. They had come to the crux of the matter. "I went, tonight, to the building where his foster-parents live. I… I stood outside the window. No one saw me…"

Splinter nodded. His sons were nothing if not discreet.

"I saw him, Father. He… was sleeping. Safe." Donatello drew another breath. "They checked on him. I saw the woman… she opened the door and looked in."

"So he is being well cared for?" Splinter kept his tone even, to hide the concern.

"Yes." Donatello shook his head. "Father, I… I wanted to… to go in, to take him back. I felt so… so angry with the humans for taking him. It makes no sense!" Brown eyes searched Splinter's face, pleading. "He's safe now. We can protect him, defend him from Masaru. He was defeated tonight, Father, and it's only a matter of time… Leonardo does not believe Karai has ordered this attack on our family. Masaru is a renegade, working on his own, we're nearly sure of it. We can deal with this. The boy is safe, and he is with people who care for him, so why… why do I feel so… why do I… miss him so much?" Don trailed off, his voice nearly a whisper.

Splinter watched his anger and frustration fade into confusion and loss.

_Oh… my son. You have become far more attached to this human child than is good for you, for either of you. _

"Donatello. You know he belongs among his own kind," said Splinter gently.

The Turtle nodded, but when he looked up, the hard determination was back.

"Father… I know. But I can't help but feeling he's not safe. As long as Masaru lives, he will be in danger."

Splinter hesitated, troubled. "As long as the Foot clan exists, innocents of this city are in danger," he said, half to himself.

"I know." Don half-shouted, startling the Rat into a glare. "I know," he repeated more softly. "_Gomen nasai,_ Father. I just… I come home, to my wife, to my own son, and… I can't believe sometimes, how unbelievably blessed we are, but… Father, I feel as if… as if something's missing. There is a space, Father, a hole… And I don't know why."

Splinter looked into Don's face again, hesitating. He opened his mouth to advise his son to meditate, to clear his mind of the misguided thoughts, to let the boy go, but a sudden image flashed into his mind. A small green hand, curling around his own. Brown eyes looking so trustingly into his face, much as Isamu had looked at Donatello.

"Father?" His son's question, his seeking, his longing for an answer, hung in the air, on that one word.

And suddenly Splinter was unsure.

"Donatello," he said slowly. "My son." He reached out, laying a firm hand on his son's shoulder. He could feel Donatello's tension vibrating through his muscles. "You are no longer a child, and although I am your father, and have taught you all I am able, I am no longer the one who must make difficult decisions for you. You know this. So, what is it, my son, that you wish to ask of me?"

"Father, I want to know if… If I'm wrong. If I'm crazy, wanting to… to keep him. To bring him here and raise him along with Kouki."

The words poured forth as if a dam had broken. "I know… I know he's human, Father. I know he's not ours. Is it wrong? To want to keep him safe? To love a boy who's not my own?"

"Donatello. My son, you must consider what is best for the child."

"I know… I know, Father." Donatello's voice was thick with pain, but steady. "I… understand. You're right. He doesn't belong… He should be with other humans."

"That is not what I said, my son," said Splinter gently. "Donatello, the love a parent has for their child is not bound by physical relationships. You are my son, though you were not born to me as Kouki was to you and Beverly." Splinter smiled. "The boy has no father. It is possible that you are meant to fill that role to him, as I was meant to fill it for you. However, you must meditate upon this. You must be sure, Donatello, that your decision is made to ensure the safety and welfare of the boy, and not to heal a wound in your own heart. Are you certain, my son, that the memory of Leonardo's illness, following the boy's father's death, is not still plaguing you?"

"Leonardo's… Oh, you mean the depression." Donatello frowned. "It's… possible. But I don't think I… feel responsible for Isamu because of his father." Splinter saw the familiar focus in Donatello's eyes as he turned his thoughts inward, examining his feelings rationally, perhaps for the first time. "From the time I went to April's to get him and he… he wanted me, Father, and not her… I felt… I felt as if he needed me." Don looked at his father, questioning. "Is that a wrong reason to want to take care of him?"

"My son," Splinter gripped his shoulder a bit more tightly. "When I found four infant Turtles crawling in a puddle of ooze, there was no other reason for me to intervene than compassion."

"But no one else could have taken care of us," said Donatello slowly.

"It is true, Donatello, that your situation was unique. None the less, I am your father," said Splinter quietly. "And I have no regrets. All I ask, Donatello, is that you consider that throwing a pebble into a pond produces ripples. Your decision regarding the boy will affect all our lives in ways we cannot foresee."

"I understand, Father." Donatello nodded. "I will meditate upon this."

"Good." Splinter nodded.

"Thank you, Father," said Donatello, bowing his head over clasped hands.

"You are very welcome, my son."


	59. Chapter 58 Deal

**Chapter 58 ~_Deal~_**

Masaru leaned back against the wall, sizing up the man before him.

_He is a fool_, he thought, keeping his expression passive. _It's easy to see how the Turtles defeated him. Still, I can make use of him for my own purposes. His daughter's alliance with the Turtles will be useful. It is too dangerous now to destroy them myself. Karai has made her unwillingness in the matter clear. I will destroy them _and_ the boy, without Karai connecting any of this to myself. _

"State your business, Masaru," snapped Rin Abramson.

Masaru could see the man's nerves in the way his fingers trembled slightly on the neck of the crystal decanter. He poured a shot of the golden liquid into a glass, not bothering with ice.

"I was under the impression my debt to Karai was paid," continued the man coldly.

"I have not come to collect ancient debts," said Masaru smoothly, straightening. "But when you ally yourself with sworn enemies of the Foot Clan, Abramson-san, you must answer."

"What?" the man glared at him. "What are you _talking_ about?"

Masaru kept his expression passive. "The Turtles. You cannot deny your daughter's… connection, to the _kame_ warriors." He didn't miss the way Rin went still with shock.

"You know them?" The man's voice was hoarse.

Masaru allowed himself the slightest smirk, asserting his superiority over the man one small revelation at a time.

"The Foot Clan rules this city," he said. "We know _everything_ that goes on in these streets, and below them."

"Below…" Rin stared.

"You have allied yourself with some very treacherous enemies, Rin-san."

Rin scowled. "Those _creatures_ are no allies of mine. They've stolen my daughter, swept her away into some… some sick, twisted fantasy, a parody of a marriage, and that creature she calls her _child_…" he shuddered.

"Then you would… retrieve your daughter, given the opportunity?" Masaru allowed the slightest edge of doubt to creep into his tone.

"I would bring her home!" Rin Abramson set the glass down with a _clunk._ He'd turned to stare at the man with hard, dark eyes. "Home, with her family, where she _belongs_. I would _make_ my father see she is weak, unworthy to carry our family's heritage!"

"Ah, yes. Your honorable father. But you gave up your name, _Miyomoto-san._ Your interest is not in your daughter's welfare so much as in protecting your own inheritance."

Rin stared as if he'd seen a ghost. His throat moved as he swallowed. "How… how…"

"Did you believe we did not know about the rift in your family? Did you truly believe we do not know more about you than you know about yourself?" He sneered. "Do not underestimate us, Rin Abramson," said Masaru, casually dismantling the last of Rin's illusions about who was in control.

Rin straightened, visibly gathering his scattered wits. "So you know I changed my name when my father refused to support me. What of it?"

"We are also aware, Abramson-san," said Masaru, placing careful emphasis on the name, "That your father has sworn to leave his estate to your daughter in your stead. He considers _her_ his true heir. Of course, if you had a male child, one might understand, but to leave such riches to a _female…_" Masaru shook his head.

"I wanted a son," said Rin stiffly. "But Janey wasn't strong. She was happy to have a little girl, and her doctor advised that we should not attempt a second pregnancy." He turned, pacing a few steps away.

"Every father wishes for a son," said Masaru smoothly. "A fine, strong boy to mold in his own image, to raise… Perhaps a grandson, to carry on the family line."

"That _thing_ is no grandchild of mine," snapped Rin. "It's not even _human._"

"Ah, but if you were to… produce a grandchild, a grand_son_, a human child…"

"And just _how_ do you propose I do that? My father will check. If I adopted a child, he would know. It's impossible to hide an adoption in this country…"

Masaru didn't bother answering. "We may, Rin Abramson-san, be of use to one another. I wish to destroy the Turtles. You wish to retrieve your daughter and convince your father to leave his fortune to you."

"What business does the Foot have with my family?" growled Rin.

He studied Masaru, his eyes narrowing as if he could look through him to his soul, to discern his true intentions. Masaru saw the defensive tension ripple through the man's body, and smiled disarmingly.

"Our business is with the Turtles and all who ally themselves with their clan," he said. "Your daughter has chosen to contaminate herself. However, all need not be lost. You may still ensure your place in your father's eyes."

"You came here to threaten my family?"

The man glared at Masaru, who returned his gaze, impassive.

"Not to threaten, Abramson-san, but to discuss the future. Your daughter has formed a foolish alliance. I have come to offer you an… opportunity, to extract her, before this alliance proves her undoing. You may yet be able to convince her of her foolishness."

"You'd help me get Austin back?" Rin watched Masaru, his dark eyes narrowing. "At what price? The Foot does not do anything for free."

Masaru smiled. "Is it so difficult to believe that I wish to see a man reunited with his daughter?" he murmured.

Rin snorted. He picked up the chunky glass and drank the whiskey in one swallow.

Masaru watched the way his throat moved, noting the location of the faint pulse just under the skin. He could feel the phantom weight of the shuriken in his hand; envision how it would slice through the air, through the man's neck, just deep enough to sever the artery. But he had not come to kill Rin Abramson. Not this time. Not yet.

"I do not _require_ your assistance," said Masaru coolly. "If you do not care for your daughter's fate, then I am wasting your time."

He turned as if to leave.

"Wait!"

Masaru kept his features carefully impassive as he turned to face the man once more.

"She is my daughter," said Rin. "She must not be harmed."

Masaru allowed himself the slightest of shrugs. _Fool! Do you think I care about the girl? It's the Turtles I want. She, and you, are only pawns in this game, to be sacrificed in defense of the ultimate goal._

"Very well," he replied coolly.

"But what good will it do me to get her back? Father will never accept the creature as his grandchild," mused Rin. His gaze flicked to Masaru's face.

"You must present your father with a _human_ grandchild," said Masaru. "A boy child to carry on your family's name."

"But how…"

"Leave that to me."

Rin strode forward, the fury of an angry father rising to the surface. "If you lay a single finger on my daughter, I swear…"

Masaru stood, unmoving. "Don't be a fool. I will provide you with a child through less… physical means."

"You mean you want me to adopt some child? Even if I could convince Austin to go through with it, he'll never fall for such a trick. Father's lawyers…"

Masaru shook his head. "I will provide the child. All you need do is… convince your daughter to accept him as her own long enough to satisfy your father. I will do the rest."

_Do not fear your father's lawyers, Rin Abramson. None of you will live long enough for the ruse to be discovered. Your death will be, unfortunately, quick. Even that, Rin Abramson, is already planned. Once the Turtles and their pitiful clan are dealt with, you, and the boy will die.  
_

"But…"

"Do you want my help or not?" snapped Masaru.

Rin wavered, but finally he nodded. "I can see you have… resources. Very well. I will… assist you, in any way I can, in return for my daughter's safety."

To Rin's credit, his voice was steady as he spoke, and his hands shook only slightly as he poured himself another shot of whiskey. He glanced over his shoulder at Masaru.

"Drink? I have some very fine sake."

"No, I thank you," demurred Masaru. _Never take food nor drink from an enemy's hand. Do I look like such a fool to you?_

The man threw back his shot in one swallow and set the glass firmly on the sideboard, turning to face Masaru once more.

"What exactly are you planning?"

Masaru let a slow, cold smile cross his features, reminding Rin subtly who was in charge. _There is one last obstacle that must be removed. Nothing must interfere. No one must stand in the way. _

"I am sorry, Rin-san, to hear of your wife's illness," he said mildly.

The man blanched only slightly this time, nodding warily.

"Thank you."

"I imagine that your sister-in-law's interference must be most frustrating. You, of course, only want Mrs. Abramson to have the best care in these, her final days," said Masaru smoothly.

"Lucille always was an interfering busy-body," growled Rin, his eyes narrowing. "She was the one who talked Janey into leaving me in the first place, I know. Janey would never admit it was her sister's influence, but I'm sure of it."

Masaru nodded thoughtfully. "Interfering in a man's family is a dangerous thing," he said, keeping his tone sympathetic. "And now she seems to be influencing your daughter as well."

"Turning her against me." Rin scowled. "Her and those… those… whatever the hell they are. Those _monsters._"

Masaru nodded. "The Turtles have interfered in both of our business long enough," he said, leaning forward conspiratorially. "And Lucille Chesney has interfered in your _family_ long enough. It is time, Mr. Abramson, that these nuisances were… removed."

"What do you have in mind?" Rin looked into the man's eyes, appearing fascinated in spite of himself.

_Idiot._ Masaru schooled his features into a practiced calm.

"If you were to… inform your daughter, of your wish to meet with her, to discuss your wife's future…"

Rin was shaking her head. "She'd never agree," he said bitterly. "The stubborn little…"

Masaru held up his hand. "Ah, perhaps she might be persuaded. If she thought her aunt, or her mother, were in danger… if you mentioned a new threat…"

Rin's dark eyes snapped to his face, searching. "You wouldn't harm them? Janey is near death anyway, and Lucille is just an interfering busybody."

"Of course not." Masaru smiled as if the thought amused him.

_What are your women to me? Only tools for drawing the creatures out into the open. _"Deception and illusion are a ninja's tools. But if she thought the Foot had designs on her mother, surely your daughter would fly to her mother's side, to defend her from any attack."

"That… creature, that thing she calls her husband, wouldn't let her go," said Rin.

"Perhaps not alone," replied Masaru. "The creatures are very… protective, of those they consider their own. Very possessive. One or more would travel with her. Surely Michelangelo, her… husband." He let the word fall between them with distaste.

"What good would that do _you_?" asked Rin skeptically.

"Surely you are a student of the great Sun Tzu," replied Masaru smoothly. "When a strong army is divided, they are only as strong as their strongest number. By separating the creatures, we render them weaker, more vulnerable."

"So, you will threaten Janey, to draw Austin out of the City?" asked Rin.

"No." Masaru shook his head. "_You_ will inform your daughter of your concern. She will go, in a foolish attempt to protect her. In her aunt's home, she will be vulnerable."

"I see. I don't know where the creatures keep her in the City," said Rin thoughtfully.

"Their den is beneath the streets," said Masaru. "Difficult to find and nearly impossible to infiltrate."

"She'll be safer in New Jersey," said Rin thoughtfully. "And it'll be easier to take her. I see." He nodded.

"It will not be without risk. At least one of them will travel with her."

"Yes, but surely you can handle them?" Rin waved a hand casually, and Masaru grimaced, but didn't bother to challenge the man's assertion.

_When the Turtles are divided, we will have a chance of destroying them,_ he thought. _And, by snatching the child here in the City, I can lure out the one who has been such a thorn in my side, the one they call Donatello. _

"Our forces will retrieve your daughter and destroy whichever of the creatures accompany her," said Masaru.

Rin's brow creased with a doubtful frown, but he nodded. "Very well. But are you certain the remaining Turtles won't simply come and take her away again?"

"They will be far to focused on revenge for their fallen to concern themselves with your daughter," said Masaru. "When she loses the illusion of a family she has created, when all those she has gathered around her for protection are gone, she will remember her place."

"And I will have her back," said Rin softly, nodding."But what about the child? You mentioned a boy..."

"A journey begins with a single step, Rin-san," said Masaru. "Do not concern yourself. I will bring you the boy once your daughter has been retrieved."

"Very well. I will arrange to get a message to Austin. I must have your word she will not be harmed."

"Of course, Rin-san. Your allegiance to the Foot Clan will not be forgotten," said Masaru smoothly.

Rin nodded sharply. He gave the man a short bow, acknowledging the bargain.

His eyes never left Masaru's face. "However, if you betray me," he said softly. "You will regret it."

"The Foot Clan honors its promises," replied Masaru stiffly. He noted the way Rin's dark eyes stayed hard, unyielding.

_Hmm,_ he thought. _Perhaps this man is not such a fool after all. No matter. He will not live long enough to cause me trouble. _


	60. Chapter 59 Surprise

**A/N: I'm interrupting today's installment for a quick announcement: The Stealthy Stories 2010 Fanfic Competition results are in! Google Stealthy Stories and scroll down to see the results. There were FAR too many amazing authors and stories listed in both the nominations and the winner's circle to list, but I must say a big CONGRATS goes out to my beta-reader, DuckiePray on her win! GREAT job, to Sarah, and to all the nominees and winners.**

**Awesome job, as always, to the Stealthy Staff for organizing and running the competition. **

**And now, back to your regularly scheduled roller-coaster ride. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 59 ~_Surprise~_**

Lucille dusted the dresser carefully, placing the flowers in her best vase.

_They traveled remarkably well from New York,_ she thought, brushing her fingers against the petals with a sad smile. _Soon, dear Splinter, I believe I will be free to visit you. Sooner than I would've wished. If only Austin could come… but her family's need is more pressing. At least she got to see Janey while we were in the city. Something good comes out of everything. Even Rin's plan to manipulate Austin turned into Austin getting to see her mother again._

"Can you see them from there, Janey, dear?" she asked, turning. Janey was sitting up, propped with several pillows. The sheepskin and foam mat helped cushion her painfully thin form, but her smile was bright as ever.

"They're beautiful, Luci."

"Not as beautiful as him," replied Luci, coming across the room to take her sister's hand in her own. "Oh Janey, I wish you could meet him."

Janey smiled. "Is he like his son?"

Lucille shook her head. "His… mutation, is different from his sons'," she said slowly.

Janey leaned back against the pillows, but she watched Lucille with a faint smile.

"How so?"

"Well, he's not a Turtle," said Luci carefully.

She rested her hip on the edge of the bed, careful not to jostle Janey. This had not been one of her better days. The mornings in which Janey could get out of bed and come out to sit on the couch, or even venture outside for a brief time, were growing fewer and further between. Sometimes Lucille could still see the spark of life in her sister, but she was slowly, inevitably, slipping away.

Janey's eyes were huge in her pale, drawn face. "Tell me more about him. You say he defended his master? It seems so odd, to think he was a simple animal before."

"I think it helps to simply accept him for what he _is_," said Luci softly. She reached up, adjusting the pillow behind Janey's head. "And not dwell on what he was before the change. He must've been very special, even then. Not many rats can mimic martial arts movements from their cage."

"Rat? Lucille, did you say… rat?" Janey's eyes went wider, and her face even more pale. "You're telling me this Splinter… he's a _Rat_?"

Luci shook her head. "Janey, I know it sounds… but you've seen the picture of Austin's baby. Darling, he's… he's not an animal. He's an amazing, wonderful person. Oh Janey, I wish you could meet him."

"Perhaps I will." Janey's voice was soft, wistful. "Before…" She trailed off, and her eyes slid closed. "I'm tired, Luci."

"Do you want to lie down?" Lucille fought back the burning tears that stung her eyes. "I can adjust the bed."

"No… I'm quite comfortable," said Janey softly, her words beginning to slur. "I think I'll just rest my eyes a bit."

"Yes, dear, you rest if you can," said Lucille softly. "I'll be right here in the chair if you need anything, all right?"

"I love you Luci. You're so good to me."

"I love you too, Janey. You're my sister."

Lucille retrieved the telephone handset, careful to lower the volume, before sinking into the rocker near Janey's bed. She picked up the pad of paper from the bedside table and slid the brush she'd bought out of its protective sleeve.

She unwrapped the ink stone and slid the stick out of the pouch, grinding it carefully as Splinter had shown her, before adding a few drops of water and mixing it. She frowned, studying the consistency.

_It seems as if his ink was a bit thinner,_ she thought. _But the book says just six drops. My last attempts were too dark. I suppose a bit more water won't hurt._

She added a little more water, mixing the powdery substance until she was satisfied. She dipped her brush into the color and blotted it carefully before laying it gently against the paper. She moved her fingers, careful not to let her wrist brush the paper this time. The stroke lifted and curved, smooth and precise. Lucille smiled. It was much closer to the shape Splinter had demonstrated than her previous attempts.

She frowned in concentration, making the next petal just so. It took several tries, but she finally had what roughly resembled the flower Splinter had taught her to create.

Setting the brush carefully aside, she leaned back, looking critically at her work. _Maybe if I'd just gone a bit higher with the curve, just here…_

The phone's soft ring startled her, and she dropped the pad, scrambling to answer. She pushed the button.

"Hello?"

"Aunt Luci?"

"Austin! It's so nice to hear your voice, dear. How are you?"

"We're fine, Aunt Luci. Are you ok?"

"What? Of course. I'm just here with Janey, dear. What's going on? Is everything all right?"

"Everything's fine, Aunt Luci. I um, well I was hoping you would be ok with, um…"

There were shuffling and bumping sounds for a few seconds, and something that sounded like a muffled, muttered argument, before a new voice came on the line.

"Hiya Aunt Luci."

"Michelangelo?"

"Yep. Battle Nexus Champion, at your service. Austin wants to know if we can, ya know, drop by for a little visit."

"Certainly, Michelangelo." Luci smiled in spite of her confusion.

"Cool. Um… ya wanna talk to Austin?"

"Yes, I'd like that."

Luci stifled the urge to giggle. She could see the Turtle's wide smile and sparkling blue eyes in her mind. There was something about him that just seemed to make everything more cheerful.

"Hi Aunt Luci. Sorry about that." Austin sounded slightly out of breath and Lucille heard a distinct _smack_ and a muffled protest from the other end of the line. "My husband's a _baka_ sometimes."

"That's quite all right, dear." Lucille chuckled. "When are you coming?"

"Well, see that's the thing, Aunt Luci. We'll be there in about half an hour. I'm sorry to drop in on you like this, but… well I can explain everything when we get there, ok?"

"In … half an hour?" Lucille got up, careful to be quiet, and moved out of the room, looking around the small house she shared with Janey. Her small suitcase was still standing beside the door, and her coat was tossed carelessly over a chair.

_Half an hour… they've been on the road for a while already. Why on earth didn't she call before they left?_

"I'm really sorry, Aunt Luci. Are you sure it's ok?"

"Oh, it's fine, Austin," said Luci with a forced laugh. "Just don't expect a clean house. And I'll need to run to the store, I've hardly anything in the house…"

"No! No, Aunt Luci, stay there, please." Austin's voice went high with anxiety.

_What is going on? _Lucille sank into a chair. "Austin, is everything all right?"

"It's… it's father, Aunt Luci," the girl admitted. "He called... I'll explain when I see you. We've come to make sure that nothing happens, to _either_ of you."

"I see. Well, you can tell me about it when you come, Austin. Darling, please don't worry. Janey and I are perfectly safe."

"Thanks for understanding, Aunt Luci," said Austin softly. "Michelangelo, Splinter and I will be there in just a few minutes. We're driving a friend's vehicle. Do you still have the garage? Can we park inside?"

"Yes. I'll just go out and move my car into the drive," said Luci briskly. "You can pull into the garage, and it's attached to the house. There won't be any trouble."

"We'll see you in about ten more minutes, ok?"

"All right, dear. Drive carefully."

Luci bustled around, picking up, growing increasingly nervous as the minutes ticked by.

_Oh dear. What will he think of this old place? I suppose, living in the tunnels, he won't mind a few worn spots in the rug…_ She swept the room once more, searching for dangers, seeing her little house with its big bright windows facing the sun with new eyes. _It would be terribly dangerous for anyone to know they're here. Oh dear, the drapes._

Quickly, she closed them, and turned on a lamp to brighten the room. _I should check all the doors and windows,_ thought Luci. A chill chased down her spine. She hurried to Janey's room, poking her head in the door. Janey's breathing was shallow but steady, her eyes closed and her face peaceful and smooth, free of pain for the moment.

Lucille breathed a sigh of relief before going to the window, checking to be certain it was firmly locked before drawing the drapes. She went through the house methodically, checking the locks and covering any windows that could give passersby a glimpse of her unusual visitors.

When the telephone rang again, Lucille jumped, then smiled at her own nerves. _Don't be ridiculous, Lucille Rose,_ she scolded herself.

"Aunt Luci? We're nearly there. Can you open the garage door?"

"Certainly, Austin. I'll see you in a few minutes."

She hurried to punch the code that raised the door, and watched nervously until she saw a dark Avalanche travel down the quiet street and pull into her driveway. Luci hurried to the door leading to the garage, unlocking it and opening it wide, welcoming her niece as she climbed out of the truck.

"Aunt Luci." Austin surged forward, embracing her aunt. "I'm so glad to see you again."

"Me too, dear. Please, come in. Janey will be so thrilled to see you."

"How is she?"

Luci shook her head. "She'll be better now that you're here."

"Hiya Aunt Luci." Michelangelo climbed out of the back of the vehicle, looking back over his shoulder. "You ok, Sensei?"

"Yes, my son."

Time seemed to freeze for a moment as she heard his voice. Lucille reached unconsciously, grasping Austin's forearm. Austin laid her hand over her aunt's, smiling.

Mikey reached into the truck. "Come on, Sweetie…"

Luci blinked, then smiled as she realized the orange-masked ninja was talking to his daughter. Her smile grew as he lifted the baby out of the seat, carrying her over.

"Somebody's glad to get out of that contraption," he said with a grin.

"_Oba-san_!" Skylar stretched, reaching with her fingers toward the woman, giggling. "Lu-ci."

"Hello, Skylar. It's good to see you, too," said Luci, accepting the baby from Michelangelo. Skylar grabbed a handful of Luci's hair, tugging. "Lu-ci," she said again.

"She remembers your name," said Austin.

"Well, she is the smartest little Turtle ever, aren't you, Sky?" Michelangelo wrapped an arm around Austin's waist.

Lucille patted the baby's shell, reaching up to smooth her brown hair away from her face. It was thin, but hung low enough to curl at the back of her neck.

"Greetings, Lucille-san. We apologize for intruding on you this way," said Splinter gravely, following his son out of the vehicle.

"Not at all," said Luci quickly. She met his eyes and her breath caught. "It's good… so good, to see you. All of you. Please, come in." She motioned toward the door. Austin took Michelangelo by the hand, leading him into the house. Luci noticed the way Splinter seemed to scan the space.

"Luci?" Janey's voice was soft, uncertain, but Lucille turned, handing Skylar off to her mother.

"Just a moment, please," she said quickly. "Let me… prepare Janey. I'll tell her you're here."

Austin nodded anxiously, and Michelangelo moved to her side, speaking quietly into her ear. The way her niece relaxed against her husband made Lucille smile.

"I'll be right back."

"We will wait here, Lucille-san," said Splinter gravely.

"Oh, please, do come in," she said. "Make yourselves at home. I'll be right back."

She hurried to Janey's room. Her sister was blinking owlishly in the dim light, looking around.

"Is it late already?" she asked. "Why have you closed the curtain? You know I like to see the sun. Is it still snowing outdoors? I love to see the snow sparkling.

"No, dear, it's stopped now," said Luci. "Janey, darling, how are you feeling?"

"Better, now," said Janey, but her smile wavered. "I thought I heard voices."

"It's the most wonderful surprise, Janey," said Lucille gently. "Austin has come to visit us."

"Austin? She's here?" Janey sat up straighter in the bed. "Oh, do help me get dressed, Luci. I want to see her."

"All right, Janey, but only if you feel up to it," said Lucille cautiously. "Darling, she can come in here to see you…"

"No, no, Luci, I want to go out, I want to sit in the living room and see Austin."

"If you feel you can. Here now, carefully. I'll help you, Dear. Janey, you must promise me to stay calm."

Janey's laugh was a thin imitation of her voice. "Of course. I'm excited to see Austin, but I'll be sure not to turn any cartwheels, don't worry."

Lucille smiled as she grasped her sister's arm, helping her stand up. Her arm was thin, frail under Luci's fingers, and she was careful not to squeeze, for fear of bruising the delicate skin.

"No, Janey dear, you don't understand. Austin has brought her darling little girl, and…" Luci hesitated. "Janey, Michelangelo and his father have accompanied her as well."

"What? Michelangelo? And… Splinter?" Janey's glance was uncertain.

"Yes, Dear," said Lucille soothingly. "They've come to visit. Please, Janey, I know you weren't fond of rodents when we were girls, but please, don't judge him by his appearance. He's… he's an amazing man."

She felt Janey shiver. "I'm sure I'll be delighted to meet them," said Janey softly.

Luci nodded, swallowing her worry.

_I hope you can understand how much he means to me, Janey. I hope introducing you isn't a mistake._


	61. Chapter 60 Sentinal

**Chapter 60 ~**_**Sentinel~**_

Leonardo was sitting on the bed, one leg drawn up, his elbow resting casually on his knee, when the knock came at the door. Beside him, Sierra shifted, stretching lazily. Leo waited until she sat up, setting aside the book she'd been reading and running hasty fingers through her hair to smooth it, and gave him a shy smile, before calling; "Come in."

Donatello pushed the door open, stepping half-way into the room. "Leo? Sorry to bother you. Oh, hi Sierra." The purple-banded Turtle shifted. "Sorry, guys. I didn't mean to disturb you."

"It's ok, Donny," said Leonardo easily, smiling and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "We were just hanging out. What did you need?"

"Nothing, really," said Don. "I just wanted to let you know I'm going topside for a little while."

Leo frowned, getting to his feet. Sierra climbed off the bed and stood up, too.

"Excuse me. I'm just going to get a drink," she said. She slipped out of the room, leaving the brothers alone.

"Where are you going, Bro? It's a bad idea for any of us to go out alone."

"I…" Don hesitated for an instant. "I need to set some motion sensors, maybe a camera. I think we should be keeping tabs on Isamu, now that we know Masaru's still alive."

Leonardo nodded slowly. "Ok, that makes sense. But what makes you think it's a good idea to go alone?"

Donatello gave Leo a sheepish look. "Uh, well I was kind of hoping, if you wouldn't mind…"

"You want a tag along?" asked Leo with an easy grin.

"If you wouldn't mind. I mean, I know you weren't excited about the idea of having Isamu around…"

"Donny." Leonardo shook his head. He took the two steps necessary to lay a hand on his brother's shoulder and gave it a warm squeeze. "I know I was an idiot, ok? But you were right all along. We have an obligation to protect him."

Donatello looked up, meeting his brother's gaze with a sudden, intense look. "Leo, about that. I… I talked to Splinter the other night, and Bev and I… well we were up talking all night. I… that is, we… Um well I think we need to have a family meeting, ok? Bev and I… we want to talk to you about… about something."

"O-k. That's kind of vague, Donny," said Leo, searching his younger brother's face. "You want to tell me about it, Bro?"

Donatello shook his head. "Not yet, ok? I want Bev in on this, too."

"Ok, Bro. When did you want to go?"

"As soon as we can. It should be dark in less than an hour."

Leonardo nodded. "You want me to see if Raph wants to tag along?"

"Sure." Don flashed a quick grin, and Leonardo smiled. Their family had changed, grown, but the bond between the brothers was as strong as ever.

"Meet you downstairs in, say an hour?"

"Sounds good." Donatello turned toward the door. He paused, looking back at his brother. "Hey, Leo? Thanks."

Leonardo nodded with a smile. Don went out, just as Sierra was coming back up the stairs.

"Hey, Donny. Everything ok?" she asked, casually touching his arm as they passed.

"Yep. I'm gonna borrow your husband in a little while, ok?"

"How could I say no?" she teased, smiling.

Don continued down the stairs, and Sierra came into the room, carrying two water bottles. She held one out to Leonardo. "So, you're going out?" she asked mildly. "I thought you guys weren't planning to patrol with Mikey out of town."

Leo accepted the bottle. "Don has a special project. I don't think he should go alone."

Sierra nodded, sitting down on the bed and twisting the cap off her water. She took a long pull. Leonardo watched the way her throat moved as she swallowed, and had to resist the urge to reach out, to run his fingers through the thick black curls that lay so alluringly down the back of her neck.

Sierra set the bottle aside, and turned in time to catch him staring. She smiled easily, and leaned in to kiss him. Leo gave in to the urge, sliding his fingers gently across the back of her head, letting the silken strands wind around his fingers. Finally she broke the kiss and leaned back, smiling into his eyes.

"So," she asked calmly, as if she hadn't just sent his psyche into a minor tail-spin, "What kind of trouble are you planning to get into up there?"

Leonardo smiled. "Don wants to plant some surveillance gear around the apartment where Isamu's foster-parents live," he explained. "He wants to be sure the boy is safe."

Sierra nodded, leaning casually against his side. "He really loves that little boy."

Leo went quite still. "Donny?"

His wife nodded. She leaned back to gaze up at him. "You hadn't noticed? He's been different since Isamu left. Quiet, even for Don."

Snaking an arm around her waist, Leo gave her a squeeze. "You know he had to send him away. The boy's human. He doesn't belong here."

"Leo… _I'm_ human," she reminded him gently.

"Well, that's different," Leonardo protested. He stood up, pacing away a few steps. "He's just a little boy. You made a choice…"

"Leo." Sierra got up and went to him, laying a hand on his plastron. "Who are you trying to convince?"

Leonardo stared into her green eyes, uncertain. "I'm sorry," he said. "It's just… You're right. Don has been… off, since the boy left. I've been worried about him."

"I know." Sierra leaned in, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Leonardo… Just… keep an open mind, ok?"

"Do you know something I don't?" Leo's arms went automatically around his wife's waist.

She shook her head. "Call it a feeling. I just think your brother needs you to be there for him right now, without judging or telling him he's wrong to feel the way he does."

"Donny's not the only genius around here," Leo murmured, nuzzling her hair. "All right. I'll try."

Sierra gave him a squeeze. "You'd better go talk to Raphael, or I might not let you leave," she teased.

"Oh? You think you could stop me?" he asked, raising an eyeridge.

Sierra grinned. "I think so," she said, tracing a finger along his bicep in a way that made Leo shiver. "But I won't… this time."

"We won't be long," Leo promised.

"Good."

Leonardo was smiling as he headed down the hall to tap at Raphael's door.

It opened momentarily. "'Sup?"

"Don and I are going topside. You in?"

Raph hesitated for a beat. "Sure, Bro."

Leonardo kept his smirk firmly out of sight.

_I know you want to check on Ann first. All the fights we got into because you wouldn't listen to me, and now a woman, who weighs all of 110 pounds soaking wet, has the ability to stop you in your tracks. _

"Sounds good."

An hour later, the three Turtles were moving over the rooftops, syncing their movements as naturally as breathing. Leo breathed the cold air, drawing it deep into his lungs and letting the energy rush through his body as he ran. Snow had just begun to fall, creating a sparkling backdrop.

Raph took a running leap, glancing over his shoulder at his elder brother. Leo nodded, acknowledging the signal, before rushing forward to springboard off his kneeling brother's shell, launching to the top of a small rooftop shed.

He heard Donatello chuckle as he made the jump to the next building, and saw him give Raphael a hand up in a sling-shot maneuver. The larger Turtle flipped, landing as lightly on a protruding ridge so lightly there was no sound.

"There." Donatello paused near the building's ledge, pointing. "The third floor, fourth window in. That's the place."

Leonardo knelt. "Looks like a nice building," he remarked.

"It is," said Donatello quietly. "The woman reads to him."

Leo turned to his brother, startled, but Sierra's admonishment stopped the sharp retort before it left his mouth. Donatello was watching the window intently, with an unreadable expression.

"Donny." Leonardo rested a hand on his brother's shoulder.

Donatello didn't move. "I know, Leo," he said quietly. "Listen, you guys can keep watch from here. I'll go."

Leonardo nodded his consent, watching as his brother backed up a few paces and made the running leap to the other building. He dropped over the edge, landing lightly on the fire escape outside a darkened window. Don swung down the outside of the metal, making his way to the window he'd pointed out to Leonardo.

Raphael knelt beside his brother. "So. What're we gonna do 'bout dis, Fearless?"

"About what, Raph?"

"'Bout Donny, an' dis kid. We can't watch 'im forever, Leo. An' if anyt'in happens to 'im, Don…"

Leonardo shook his head. "Nothing's going to happen, Raph."

"What if it _does,_ Leo? Da genius is gettin' pretty attached, dontcha think?"

"Raph, I don't think…"

Leonardo stopped, his blood running cold, as a light snapped on in the very window his brother was currently perched in front of.

"Donny, get out of there," he hissed, knowing full well that Donatello was too far away to hear. Next to him, Raph swore.

They watched, tense, as Don moved to one side, where the shadow covered his form pressed against the brick. All he had to do was drop down to the next fire escape platform, or climb up to the next one, but he hesitated. Leonardo leaned forward, his fists clenching as he repressed the desire to reach out and _drag_ his brother back, out of danger of discovery by the humans.

"What's he _doin_?" asked Raphael. Leo spared him a glance. Raph was glaring across the space, his hands clenched on the handles of his sai.

"Take it easy, Raph," said Leo automatically. "Donny knows what he's doing."

"What he's _doin_ is gonna get him spotted. We gotta get 'im outta there, Fearless!"

"Hold on. Let me think."

"I'm goin'."

Before Leonardo could stop him, Raphael vaulted across to the other roof and ghosted down the ladder until he was opposite Donatello, balanced on the railing of the fire escape.

He gestured to Don, but the purple-banded Turtle shook his head. Raphael's arm waved in frustration, but Donatello held up his hand. Leo could almost feel Raph's tension radiating from across the space.

Leonardo could see movement through the window. He leaned further forward, squinting, and made out the woman. She was carrying Isamu… The boy was crying.

Leo's hand went toward the hilt of his katana instinctively, but as he watched, the woman paced across the room, her face near the boy's ear. Clearly she was talking to him. Leonardo relaxed, watching.

The woman carried the little boy to the bed and lay him down, pulling the covers up. She handed him something, which he hugged tight, and patted his head before turning and leaving the room. Leonardo let out a breath he hadn't been aware of holding, watching as his brothers climbed back up the fire escape, Raphael shadowing Don so closely it was as if he were glued to his brother's shell. Don made the leap first, followed almost instantly by Raph. They barely touched the roof before Raphael exploded.

"If ya evah do somet'in like dat again…"

Don shook his head. "I got the cameras set, Leo."

"What were you _thinking_, Donny? She nearly spotted you."

"She wasn't _close_ to spotting me, Leo. She was… busy." Donatello answered quietly. There was a stubborn set to his jaw. "Sorry I worried you. Let's go home."

He hitched his bag on his shoulder and took off across the roof, not looking back to see if his brothers were following.

Raphael paused, glancing at Leonardo. Leo simply waited.

"Da kid was askin' fer Donny, Fearless," said Raph quietly. "I heard 'im."

Leo looked toward his brother's retreating form.

"What're we gonna do 'bout Don, Leo?"

"I don't know, Raph. I really don't know."


	62. Chapter 61 Meetings

**Chapter 61 ~_Meetings_~**

Splinter watched from the doorway as Janey Abramson made her way across the living room, leaning on her sister's arm. He could smell fear on the woman, tangy, unpleasant, but not strong. The overpowering scent of illness, of death hovering not far off, cloaked her nervousness. Splinter breathed through his mouth, and stepped back, out of her line of sight. Behind him, Michelangelo shifted, uneasy. He heard the Turtle turn and pace away across the small dining room.

Splinter stayed where he was, watching as Janey sank down into a thickly padded chair. He could just see Lucille as she hovered next to her sister, adjusting her pillow and laying a soft fleece blanket over her legs.

"There, Janey, dear," she soothed, her brown eyes flicking toward the doorway, as if she sensed his presence nearby.

"I'd… I'd like to see Austin." Janey's voice was wavering, soft.

"Yes, dear. Austin and her family are just in the next room. I'll have Austin bring the baby in first, all right? Then, if you're feeling strong enough, you can meet her husband."

"And what about her… her… father-in-law? Splinter?" The smell of fear increased slightly.

"I'm sure he'd be delighted to meet you as well, but Janey dear, you must be polite to him. Please, for my sake."

"Well of course." Janey Abramson's laugh sounded forced, thin.

Splinter flicked one ear as he sensed his daughter-in-law's approach.

"Splinter?" Austin moved up behind him, her footsteps nearly silent.

He cleared his throat softly. "I believe your _oba-san_ will be wanting you, Austin," he said quietly. "Your mother wishes to meet Skylar-chan."

"I know." Austin swallowed hard. She was holding the baby. Splinter saw her hand tremble against Skylar's shell. "I… I don't know if I can do this, Sensei."

Michelangelo came up beside her, silent as a ghost. His arm went around her waist, but he didn't speak. Austin looked at Michelangelo, and he leaned in to brush his mouth against her forehead, giving her a squeeze. She straightened her shoulders. Splinter smiled, seeing the young woman's determination take hold as she gathered strength from her husband's presence.

"Austin." Splinter said gently. "She is your mother."

"_Hai,_ Sensei," she murmured, flashing him a smile before stepping out into the living room.

Splinter watched as she crossed the space, approaching her mother. Janey Abramson's eyes widened when she saw Austin, and her hands went to her mouth. Austin stopped, and Splinter saw a quiver of tension run down her back.

"Hello, Mother." Austin's voice was remarkably steady, her tone quiet and dignified, and the Rat's heart swelled with pride.

"You see, Janey, Austin has brought Skylar to see you," said Lucille gently.

Splinter could hear the faint undertone of apprehension in her voice. He wanted to go to her, to take her hand in his own, to drive away the hovering anxiety, but he stood silent, watching.

"Austin, my baby… Please, come here. Is this… is this my… granddaughter?" Janey held out trembling hands.

Lucille motioned, and Austin moved to the couch, sinking down so she was facing her mother, their knees nearly touching. "Mom, this is Skylar Raine Hamato," she said softly, turning Skylar so she was sitting on her lap, facing her grandmother. "Skylar, this is your grandmother. Can you say 'Grandma'?"

"Gamma?" Skylar reached for Janey, grasping her fingers.

"Oh, Janey," whispered Luci. Tears shone in her brown eyes.

Splinter saw Janey jerk, startled, as Skylar grabbed her hand, but a slow smile spread over her face.

"Her eyes. Luci, look, she has Austin's eyes," she said softly.

"She does," said Luci quietly.

"She's… she's so different but…" Janey reached out, smoothing a hand over Skylar's fuzzy hair. "She's… she's yours, isn't she, Austin?"

"She is my daughter, Mother," said Austin quietly.

"May… may I hold her?"

Austin hesitated for a beat, glancing at Lucille, who still stood beside her sister's chair, before carefully passing the baby over. "Watch her shell, Mother. And be careful. She's strong."

"Gamma." Skylar grinned widely, reaching out to pat Janey's cheek. The woman shivered, but didn't pull away.

"Her skin… it's so soft," she said, brushing a finger along Skylar's arm. Skylar giggled and grabbed for her fingers.

Austin's smile was strained. "She's a baby, Mother."

"Yes. My granddaughter." Janey's voice was stronger, more confident. "She's… she's beautiful, Austin. She's… not what I expected, when I thought of grandchildren, but she's yours. I love her."

"Would you like to meet Michelangelo, Janey, dear?" asked Luci gently.

"Your husband?" Janey asked Austin. Her eyes flickered toward the doorway, and the smell of fear increased slightly.

"Skylar's father. My husband, yes," said Austin gently. "He… he and his brothers, and his father, they are my family now, Mother. Skylar is his daughter. He's a good man."

"Of course I want to meet him, Dear," said Janey. She reached up with one hand, grasping Lucille's fingers.

Skylar giggled, reaching for Janey's face. The woman smiled, and for the first time Splinter saw the woman she must have been before the illness ravaged her body. The butterfly Austin had described flickered for an instant in her eyes, soft and fragile.

She nodded more decisively. "Yes. I'd like to meet him."

"Mikey? Can you come in here, please?" Austin called, looking expectantly toward the door.

Next to Splinter, Michelangelo shifted, rocking on the balls of his feet. "You sure this is a good idea, Sensei?" he asked softly. "I don't wanna freak her out or anything…"

"Michelangelo, Austin needs you. Go."

Slowly, as if to his own execution, Michelangelo stepped out into the doorway so that Janey Abramson could see him.

"Hiya, Dudette… uh, Mrs. Abramson." He gave her a rather timid wave.

"Michelangelo. It's… it's nice to meet you," said Janey, a shade breathlessly.

Austin stood up, crossing the room and taking the Turtle's hand in her own. "Come on. Mom doesn't bite, honest."

Michelangelo chuckled, and let his wife lead him to the couch. "Hiya Aunt Luci." He grinned. "Long time, no see." He knelt down in front of Janey. "Hey, there Sky. You hangin' out with your grandma?"

"Daaa." Skylar giggled.

"Hello… Michelangelo," said Janey a little breathlessly. She was leaning back in the chair, pressing her shoulders against the pad.

"It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Abramson. I uh, I just wanna say, you know, thanks. For… for not freaking out on Austin. I know we're not… not exactly what you expected, but… but well I love your daughter, and I promise you, nothing's ever gonna hurt her, not ever. Not while I'm around."

Janey relaxed slowly as Mikey spoke, and Splinter saw a faint smile touch her face.

"Thank you, for taking care of my little girl," she said softly.

Mikey shook his head. "She don't need me to take care of her," he said, glancing at Austin and flashing a grin.

Austin smiled, leaning forward to put her arm around Mike's shoulders. "He takes good care of me, Mom. Of _us._"

Skylar giggled, and turned, reaching for her father.

"Hey, Babe," said Mikey gently. "How's my gorgeous girl?"

Janey relinquished the baby to her father, and the smile grew. She reached out suddenly, laying a hand on Michelangelo's arm. He went very still. Splinter watched the woman's expression as she gazed into his son's eyes.

"I believe you care for my daughter," she said. "And I believe you have taken good care of her these past five years. You've given me my daughter back, and you've given me a beautiful granddaughter. Thank you, Michelangelo."

"You're welcome, Mrs. Abramson," he replied solemnly.

Janey leaned back in the chair, and Michelangelo got to his feet slowly. He backed away, making no sudden movements, and sat down next to Austin on the couch, setting Skylar on his knee. The baby immediately squirmed onto her knees, exploring her father's plastron, and patting his chest plates, giggling.

"Are you all right, Janey, dear?" asked Lucille.

"I am." Janey reached up to grasp her sister's hand again. "I… I'd like to meet your young man now, Luci dear. I'd like to meet Splinter."

"Are you sure? This is a lot to take in all at once," said Luci.

Splinter's whiskers twitched. _Is she ashamed for me to meet her sister? The woman is ill. Perhaps this is not the best time…_

"I'm sure."

"I'll… I'll go get him."

Splinter stepped away from the door. When Lucille came into the room, he was sitting calmly at the table. He stood as she approached.

"Lucille-san."

"She took meeting them very well," said Luci. "She… she'd like to meet you, Splinter."

"Do you think this is wise, Lucille-san?" he asked.

"I… I don't know," confessed Luci. Her brown eyes were worried, but she came to him. "But I'd… I'd like you to meet her. Please, Splinter. She's… she's my sister."

Splinter bowed his head in acknowledgment. Luci reached for his hand, and after a moment's hesitation, Splinter grasped her fingers. Together, they walked out to the living room.

Janey was facing Austin, smiling at something Michelangelo was saying, when they entered the room. She half-turned toward them, freezing in place when her gaze landed on Splinter, her mouth half-open as if she'd been about to speak.

"Janey, dear, this is Splinter Hamato," said Luci cautiously.

She stopped only a few paces into the room, and Splinter stood beside her. For the first time in decades, he felt… awkward.

Janey closed her mouth. The color had drained from her face, leaving her looking almost gray with shock. Splinter watched as she drew a slow, deep breath.

Luci released his hand and went to her sister, kneeling beside her chair. "Janey, dear, are you all right?"

"I… I think so," Janey whispered. She closed her eyes for a moment, and opened them again, staring at Splinter as if he were an apparition she expected to disappear.

"Greetings, Mrs. Abramson. It is an honor to meet the mother of my daughter-in-law," said Splinter quietly.

Janey stared at him, looking as startled as if the footstool had found a voice and spoken to her.

"I… Forgive me, but I… I'm not feeling very well. Luci, I'd like to go… to go to my room now, and lie down," murmured Janey.

"Mother, Splinter has been more of a father to me than your husband ever was," said Austin fiercely, moving as if to stand up. "If you can't accept him…"

"Please, Austin," Lucille interrupted. "This is a lot for her to take in all at once…"

"Austin, _she is your mother,_" Splinter said quietly in Japanese. "_You honor me by showing her respect._"

"_Hai_, Sensei," Austin responded, subsiding.

"I'm sorry, Austin, Lucille," said Janey, her voice thin and high. "I… I just need to lie down for a bit."

"Come, Janey, dear, I'll help you to your bed," said Luci, taking her sister by the arm. She glanced in Splinter's direction, her brown eyes pleading for understanding.

Janey managed to stand, but swayed. Michelangelo was at her side in an instant. Splinter saw her eyes go wide as she shrank from the muscular Turtle.

"Hey, take it easy, Dudette. Can I help you?" He held out his hands. Janey stared at him, mute, grasping for her sister's hand.

"Mike, here, take Skylar," said Austin quietly. "I'll help Aunt Luci with Mother."

"Ok, no problem." Michelangelo accepted his daughter, stepping back to give the woman a bit of space.

Austin and Lucille led Janey from the room. Michelangelo watched them go. Once they were out of the room, Splinter made his way over to stand next to his son.

"Well. That coulda gone worse, right?" muttered Mike. Skylar leaned into her father's chest, laying her head on his shoulder with a yawn.

"Gamma," she murmured.

"Yes, _mago-chan_," said Splinter gently. "Your grandmother must rest." He felt old, suddenly, tired and sad.

_This was not a good idea. Perhaps we should not have come._ _I do not wish to be the cause of conflict between Austin and her mother, or Lucille and her sister. It is clear that my presence can only cause her distress. We cannot allow the Foot to cause them further harm. As soon as we are certain of their safety, we will go. _

"You ok, Sensei?" asked Michelangelo.

Splinter forced a smile. "Yes, my son."

* * *

**A/N: I know. I _know_... I wanted to strangle Janey and cuddle Splinter, too. I had a really hard time writing this, because I can't stand the thought of someone rejecting him based on outward appearance alone, but Janey is not as strong, physically or emotionally, as Luci. And, it's like my friend Mel said: "Not everyone is all like 'Oh, so you're a huge Rat? Ok. Let's sit down and have some tea.'" **

**Don't give up on her just yet. She may not be as awesome as Luci, but she is Austin's mom... and all parents care for their children.  
**


	63. Chapter 62 Missing

**Chapter 62 ~_Missing_~**

Pouring a cup from the never-empty pot of coffee, April O'Neil-Jones blew a strand of wayward hair out of her eyes and sank into a kitchen chair, wrapping her fingers around the mug and drinking in the warm scent before taking a careful sip.

"Hey, Babe." Casey Jones eased into a chair across from her, opening a can of soda with a _hiss._ "How's it goin'?"

"Ok." April smiled. "I have a lot of paperwork to catch up on. Having that little boy here kind of screwed up my schedule. If I don't file the patent, Don's invention can't go to the fair next week."

"Da fair?" Casey paused, about to take a swig from the can.

"The inventor's convention," said April, barely containing an eyeroll. "I _told_ you, Casey."

"Oh, ya mean dem geeks dat get together in da Regency."

"That's right. We've got to head upstate by Wednesday."

"How come ya gotta go clear upstate, Babe?"

April smiled. "That's where the fair is held. Besides, there are some big companies that come to the fair, looking for new products. If one of them were to pick up Don's new circuitry…"

"Dat's another t'ing. How's he gonna sell it? I mean, he can't exactly shake hands on da deal, right?"

"I'll be acting as his representative," said April. "He doesn't actually have to be there."

"Ok, Babe." Casey grinned. "How'd I get so lucky?"

"Lucky?" April raised an eyebrow.

"Yep. Ta be wit' a smart babe like you."

April smiled, shaking her head. "I don't know, Jones."

"Me either, but I'm glad I did." Casey stood up, coming over and leaning down. His lips tasted sweet with the residue of the cola and his unique spicy scent enveloped her senses.

"_Ahem._"

April nearly fell off her chair as Casey straightened into a defensive crouch, his hands balling into fists.

Donatello was leaning back against the kitchen counter, smirking. Casey swore and April frowned.

"Sorry," said Don quickly. "I knocked on the window but you guys were… um busy."

"Geez, Donny. I _tol'_ ya, don't be usin' dat ninja stealth on us!" growled Casey good-naturedly.

April didn't bother pretending to be annoyed. "It's good to see you, Donny. You know you guys are always welcome here."

She reached up and grasped Casey's arm, giving him a squeeze.

"Uh, yeah, of course," said Casey quickly. "You guys're family. Ya want some coffee?"

Donatello shook his head. "No. I can't stay. I just…"

April caught a haunted flash in his brown eyes. She recognized the look immediately. She'd seen it countless times before, when Don had come to her in the long New York nights as a teenager, searching for something… he wasn't quite sure what, and April never knew either, but after a quiet cup of coffee, and sometimes conversation, he would leave, his burden apparently lifted, even if she never knew what the actual problem had been.

It had been quite some time since Donatello had appeared in her kitchen, seeking out her companionship, but some things, some friendships, don't change, no matter how much time passes.

Casey seemed to sense it, too. "I, uh… I t'ink I'll see what Raph's up to," he said.

Don thanked the man with a nod. "Raph's on the roof," he said. "We're traveling in pairs, because of this stuff with the PD's and the Foot."

"Where's Leo?" asked April automatically.

"Safe," said Don with a sardonic grin. "He really wanted to get home to Sierra. We stayed together until he went underground, before Raph and I took off."

April nodded. "Good. It's really not safe for _any_ of you to be out alone just now," she said, glancing toward Casey.

"On it, Babe. See ya, Don."

"Bye, Case."

"Be safe."

April watched affectionately as Casey hitched his golf bag over his shoulder and disappeared up the fire escape before turning to her friend.

"Coffee?"

"Thanks."

Donatello sank into a kitchen chair as if he belonged there. April took a moment to study him. He, like all the Turtles and their father, was as familiar to her as her own face in the mirror. The perfection of his form, the definition in his impressive muscles, the way his olive skin shifted and rippled as he moved, even the way his plastron rose when he breathed still seemed surreal on some level, not quite real. Even after knowing them nearly twenty years, April sometimes stopped for a moment to marvel at her amazing friends.

Don met her gaze, his brown eyes troubled behind the familiar purple material. "Something wrong, April?"

"No, Donny." She turned away, pouring the coffee, and brought it to him before sliding back into her own chair. "At least, I don't think so." She didn't quite make it a question, but she saw his shoulders twitch, and reached out, taking a calloused green hand in her own. "What's going on?" she asked softly.

Don took a deep breath. "Nothing," he muttered, but he didn't take his hand away.

"O-k."

They sat for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Eventually, Don took a sip of his coffee, but he seemed in no hurry to leave, or to speak. April simply waited, knowing whatever it was he needed, he'd get around to it in his own good time.

"It was you, wasn't it?" he asked finally. His voice was soft, as if his thoughts were elsewhere, distracted.

"Me?"

He glanced at her with a flicker of recognition. April smiled. "Donny," she said. "I don't know what a flux capacitor _is._"

It had been a running joke between them for years. In his late teens, when ideas were flowing like oil gushing from a newly drilled well, his inventions taking shape as fast as his fingers could work, and his excitement driving him to show up at April's at all hours, with half-finished projects he was eager to share, Don had often rambled on without taking the time to be sure April actually knew what he was talking about.

One very early morning, frustrated with her young friend, April had finally held up a hand to stop him mid-sentence, and asked him with a perfectly straight face, "Donatello. Where did you say the flux capacitor goes?"

He'd blinked, staring at her.

"The _what?_"

Keeping her serious expression firmly in place, April pointed to the black box in Donatello's hands. "The flux capacitor. Where does it go?"

"April," he'd replied, looking confused. "What's a flux capacitor?"

All pretense of seriousness had dissolved then, and April'd nearly doubled over in a fit of giggles. The look on Donatello's face had only made her laugh harder, until she realized he wasn't laughing. It wasn't until she'd gotten herself under control with an effort, and apologized to the teenager, that a slow smile of understanding grew on his face.

"April," he'd said in the same serious tone she'd used. "I don't know what a flux capacitor _is._"

April grinned at the memory, and by the ghost of a smile Don gave her, she knew he was remembering, too.

"Sorry," he murmured. "It was you who gave Isamu the turtle, wasn't it?"

April went very still, the urge to giggle suddenly fading away.

"How did you know about the turtle?"

Donatello shifted, glancing away. "I was there tonight. We… we're concerned the Foot may still be a threat to the boy, so Leo and Raph and I went over to mount some surveillance equipment." He met her questioning gaze and shrugged. "Nothing fancy. Just a camera. A couple motion sensors. They'll never know they're there. She… the woman… She was putting him to bed. I saw her give it to him."

April nodded. "I sent the stuffed turtle over, yes. I thought it would comfort him."

"And did you… did you give it a purple mask?" asked Don quietly.

"No." April stared. "It has a mask?"

"Yes." Donatello sighed.

"Donny, you did the right thing. You know that, right? You saved him. You gave him another chance. He's going to be ok," said April. "You did good, Donatello."

"Thanks."

For the first time since Don arrived, she saw a genuine smile from him, but it quickly dissolved. He took a sip of the coffee.

"Donny. Talk to me," urged April. "What's going on?"

He set the cup down with a sigh. After a moment, he met her eyes.

"Bev and I are thinking of adopting Isamu."

"What?" April couldn't hide her shock.

Donatello watched her face, searching. "You think it's a bad idea."

April closed her mouth with a _snap_. "I didn't say that," she said. "I'm just… surprised, that's all."

Don nodded. "Not as surprised as my brothers are going to be."

"You haven't talked to them yet?"

"I… talked to Sensei."

"And does he approve?"

Donatello cradled the coffee mug in his hands, staring at the tabletop. "He said it was something Bev and I had to decide for ourselves."

"Your dad's a pretty smart guy. You know, for a ninja master." April saw a smile tug at Donatello's mouth.

"I just… I wish I knew, you know, if it's really the right thing," said Don softly. "When I saw him tonight, I just… He was crying, and I wanted to go in and take him. I've never felt so strongly, April, until we had Kouki."

April nodded slowly. "Don."

"Yes?" He looked at her, meeting her gaze steadily, waiting.

"It's not an easy decision, for anyone." April drew a deep breath. "I mean, bringing a child, a _human_ child, into your family… it's a huge step. A big risk."

"I know." He blew out a sigh. "How do I decide, April?"

_Oh, Donny. But I can't think of anyone in the world who'd be a better father…_

Coming to a decision, April reached out, grasping his hand again.

"Donny, I guess the only thing I can tell you is… follow your heart. You'll know what to do."

Donatello smiled. "Thanks, April."

"Hey. Anything for my brothers," she responded, reaching to pinch his cheek affectionately. "You want another cup of coffee?"

"Sure…"

April stood up and Don held out his cup, but before she could take it, his shell-cell sounded at his hip. He pulled it out of his belt, glancing at the screen, and groaned. "Leo," he said, flipping it open.

He listened for a moment, nodding. "Ok, Bro. Yeah, I'll be along in a while… See you then."

"Leo wants me home," he said, standing up. "I'll take a rain-check on that coffee."

April smiled. "You'd better take the tunnel from the basement, ok?"

Donatello made a face, but nodded. "Yeah. That's the most secure route. Thanks again, April."

"Anytime, Don." She squeezed his shoulder and turned to set the cup in the sink. When she turned back, he was gone.

April shook her head, smiling. _Ninjas._

Hearing an odd buzzing sound, she headed into the living room. Her cell phone was vibrating on the coffee-table.

"Hello?"

"Ape?" Casey Jones sounded out of breath, his voice tight with fury.

"Casey? What's wrong?"

"It's da kid, Ape. Raph an' I jus' went by the place. Leo don't want him fighting PD's right now, so we were jus' running on the roofs an' we stopped by to check on da kid, ya know? There's cops everywhere. Ape, da kid's missing."

"What?" April sank into a nearby chair, feeling as if she'd never be warm again.

"I heard da cops talkin'. There's no sign of a break in, nothin'. Da kid… he's jus' gone."


	64. Chapter 63 Trying

**Chapter 63 ~**_**Trying~**_

Janey Abramson blinked against the early-morning light streaming through her window, stretching carefully and turning her face toward the sun with a faint smile. She was tired, so tired, but she knew sleep had left her for now, and lying in her bed any longer would only leave her aching and sore.

_I wonder if it's warm enough today, to sit out on the porch. The sun is so beautiful._ A faint sound elsewhere in the house had her turning toward the door, her smile growing. _Luci._

Every morning, her sister came to help her dress and come out to the couch before pressing Janey to try to eat some breakfast. Some days Janey managed to force down a few bites of egg or soft yogurt. She ate when she could, to please Luci, but most days she had no real appetite. Today, though, Janey felt she'd be able to eat something. Perhaps it was the sun, or the strength she hadn't felt in months. The heavy, dragging, tired soreness in her body seemed to have eased. She felt, not quite well, but lighter somehow, freer.

Even as the door eased open, she was leaning forward, eager to sit up and get on with the day. _I have a good feeling about today._

"Janey? Are you awake, Dear?"

"Good morning, Luci-Rose," Janey sang. "Isn't it a beautiful morning?"

"It is." Lucille approached the bed, smiling. "Are you feeling better?"

"I feel wonderful, Luci," Janey answered.

"I knew having Austin here would cheer you up," said Lucille, smiling. "The baby is still asleep, but Austin is awake. She's made some tea. I know she'll want to sit with you."

"Austin…" Janey closed her eyes for a moment, blinking away the sudden tears. "That's right, Austin came last night. With the… the baby." She drew a deep, steadying breath. "And… Michelangelo. I met him. I did, didn't I, Luci? It wasn't a dream?" She reached out, grasping her sister's wrist. Lucille's free hand closed over her fingers, warm, strong, reassuring.

"It wasn't a dream, Janey," she said quietly. "Michelangelo and Skylar are real. They arrived yesterday evening. They're here."

Janey nodded, but a chill crept over her skin, making the fine hairs on her arms stand on end. "And… the… the Rat. He… he's real, too?"

"His name is Splinter, Janey."

She blinked, focusing on Luci's face. Lucille avoided her eyes, but Janey squeezed her wrist.

"I… behaved badly yesterday, didn't I? When I met him. I'm sorry, Luci. I just…"

"I know." Lucille shook her head sadly. "You've never liked rats."

"But you said he's different. Michelangelo, and Skylar… Is Splinter like them?" Luci nodded. Janey saw the hurt in her eyes and felt ashamed_. I never meant to hurt you, Luci-Rose. _

"I'm sorry, Luci. Is he angry with me?"

Lucille drew a deep breath. "He sat with me last night, after you'd gone to bed. He said he understood. He… he asked me not to be angry with you. He offered to leave, so you wouldn't be upset." Tears slid down Luci's cheeks. "I… I asked him to stay, Janey. They've come so far, risked so much, to be here… I can't send him away. Janey, he's part of Austin's family now. She adores him, looks up to him, and I…" Luci trailed off, but took Janey's hand firmly in her own. "Please try to understand. I know they look different, Janey, but they're good men, and Austin loves her husband, and her _father_, very much."

"Oh, dear Luci-Rose," Janey squeezed her sister's wrist again, though the room felt airless. "I can see that Austin will never forgive me if I…" She took a deep breath. "I will try, for your sake, and for Austin's. You've always been so good to me. Are you sure? Are you sure this is a good idea?" She searched her sister's brown eyes. "Luci, are you sure of them?"

Lucille nodded firmly. "Janey, I love him."

"Then I will learn to love him, too." _I will learn to face him without showing fear. I won't spoil this for you, Luci. I want you to be happy… I don't want you to be alone, after I'm gone. And I don't want to lose Austin. Not after all these years._

Lucille helped her out of bed, and eased her arms into her favorite blouse, the one with the flower pattern and ruffled collar. Slacks had long since given way to soft sweatpants, with thick fleece to warm her thin legs. Luci slid bulky, furry socks over her feet, and Janey stepped carefully into a pair of thickly-cushioned slippers, leaning on her sister's arm for balance. She eased into the rocking chair, her stamina waning with the effort of getting dressed.

"The sun is so bright this morning," she murmured.

"It's beautiful, isn't it? But I'm afraid it's quite cold out this morning. Perhaps this afternoon we could go out on the porch," suggested Luci, running a comb gently through Janey's thinning hair. She set it aside and picked up a silver clip, fastening it carefully near Janey's temple. "There, don't you look lovely?" She held up a mirror.

Janey stared into the sad reflection. Her skin looked thin, stretched, even to her own eyes. She studied her face critically. _When did I grow so thin?_ She mused. _So weak… No wonder Luci worries so. I look terrible. _

"Thank you, Luci," she said softly, turning away from the mirror.

"You look beautiful," said Luci firmly, setting it aside.

_Oh, dear Sister. You always did know just what I was thinking. _Janey smiled, grasping Lucille's offered hand and letting her sister help her to her feet. _One more day I am alive. The sun is shining, and my daughter is here... Another miracle. _

Janey leaned on Luci as they crossed the living room. She could hear voices from the kitchen.

"Did you want some coffee, babe?"

"No, I just poured a cup, thanks, Mike."

Hearing Austin brought tears to Janey's eyes. Their conversation sounded so _normal_, so peaceful.

_If I'd heard him speak before I'd met him, I'd never have guessed what he is. Oh, dear, this is all so strange._

"It sounds as if Michelangelo is up," said Luci cautiously. Janey felt a tremor run through her sister's hand on her elbow. "Do you want to sit out here, Janey, dear? I'll bring you something on a tray."

"No, I'd like to try sitting at the table today, Luci," replied Janey. _I want to sit with my daughter. I want us to be a family. It's been so long._

"If you're sure."

Janey met her sister's worried eyes and swallowed her nerves.

"I'm sure." _I have to try._

Lucille helped Janey gently out to the dining room. They paused for a moment just inside the door to let Janey catch her breath. She took the opportunity to size up the situation. Years of living with Rin and his unpredictable temper had honed Janey's sense of danger, but she felt none of the trembling tension in Austin that she remembered. The young woman was relaxed, self-assured, confident. She turned from the counter, and Janey's breath caught in her throat. Austin had changed and grown, but Janey could see the little girl she'd loved.

"Good morning, Mother," said Austin. "Would you like some tea?"

Janey nodded, a lump forming in her throat. Her little girl sounded so… wary. As if she was afraid of her own mother.

_What could make her feel that way?_

Luci helped her to the table. Janey sensed, rather than saw, the movement behind her sister, and suddenly Michelangelo was there, pulling the chair out for her. She instinctively shrank from him, but he didn't seem to notice. He held the chair expectantly.

"Thank you, Mikey. You're quite a gentleman," said Luci quickly.

Michelangelo flashed a wide grin, showing his oddly human teeth.

"No problem, Aunt Luci," he answered. "How ya doin', Mrs. A.?"

"I'm… better this morning, thank you." Janey forced a smile. Up close, she could see the way his muscles rippled under his skin, the faint mottling in the bluish-green of his skin. She realized with a start that his cheeks were speckled with faint, brownish specks.

_If he were human, he'd have freckles,_ she thought, with a deepening sense of unreality.

"_Konichiwa,_ Lucille-san," said a deep, gravelly voice. "I trust you slept well." Splinter stepped into the room.

"Good morning, Sensei," said Austin. She hurried to place a cup of tea on the table. Splinter approached the chair, but hesitated when he saw Janey at the table.

"Good morning, Ms. Abramson," he said, giving her a polite, formal bow. "Forgive me, I was not aware that you were awake. Austin, perhaps it would be better if I took my tea into the other room…"

"No, please, Sensei, join us," said Austin with sudden, fierce vehemence. "Mother doesn't mind, do you, Mother?"

Janey shook her head quickly. "Of course not. Please, Splinter, do sit down."

Still he hesitated, studying her. "If my presence will not cause you discomfort?" he asked. His dark eyes were unreadable, but he held himself slightly tense, waiting.

"No, it's… it's all right." Janey forced a smile, though her stomach seemed to twist. "You're family now. Austin's…" She glanced at Michelangelo, who was watching her with wide, wary blue eyes. "Austin's father-in-law. Of course you must join us."

Splinter nodded. "_Doomo arigato_." He slid into the chair furthest from her, watching her warily as he sipped her tea.

"Uh, you want some eggs, Sensei?" asked Michelangelo. "Austin was gonna make some omelets."

"That would be very nice, my son," answered the Rat.

"Mother?" Austin looked toward her expectantly. "Would you like eggs?"

"I… that would be… lovely, dear." _I just hope I can keep them down._

"Did you find everything you need, Austin?" asked Lucille. Janey saw the way she gave the Rat's shoulder a squeeze as she moved by. He turned toward her, and smiled. For the first time, Janey saw him truly relax.

_The way he looks at Luci, it's uncanny. It really is as if… as if he has feelings for her. If he were human, I'd be so pleased for her._ She drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. _I can do this. I have beaten the cancer this far. I can sit through one meal with my daughter's new family._

The Rat's ear twitched. "I believe Skylar-chan is awake, Austin," he said.

Austin nodded, but she was stirring the eggs.

"I got her," said Michelangelo with another of his wide grins. He disappeared out of the kitchen.

"How did you know?" asked Janey, addressing the Rat directly before she could stop herself.

Splinter glanced at her with what looked like uncertainty.

"He heard her," said Austin, flipping the eggs and sprinkling cheese liberally. "His hearing is keener than a human's, Mother."

Janey looked at Splinter.

He nodded. "It is true, Ms. Abramson," he said politely.

"That's… fascinating."

_It's unnatural… I can't believe my sister believes she's in love with him… How can this be? Oh Luci… I want to be happy for you, I truly do, but this… I just don't know._

Michelangelo came back into the room, bouncing Skylar gently. The baby giggled, reaching up to tug at the tail of orange material that trailed over his shoulder.

"No, no, dudette," said Michelangelo, gently tugging the material out of the baby's fingers. "Mom's makin' you some yummy eggs, so you can grow up to be a big, strong ninja, just like your daddy."

"Ninja?" Janey went still, staring in shock.

"My sons are trained in the art of ninjitsu," said Splinter quietly. "As is your daughter, Ms. Abramson."

"I… I see."

Skylar chose that moment to make herself known, banging her hand on the table.

"Haha!" she cried, grinning.

"That's right, that's your _haha,_" said Michelangelo, smiling. "Your mommy. Can you say _ootochan?_ Can you say 'daddy'?"

"Haha!" the baby squealed.

Austin laughed. "Sorry, Mikey. You know she's daddy's girl."

"She's my little ninja alright," responded Michelangelo, tickling the baby under her chin.

Skylar laughed, grabbing for his mask tails. She jerked at it so that his mask twisted around, effectively blind-folding him. Austin's laugh rang out, and even Splinter chuckled. Lucille snorted with laughter, reaching to lift the squirming baby off Mike's lap to free his hands. He slid the mask up, off his head, grinning all the while.

"We've got to get you your own mask, Sky," he joked. "You're way too interested in Daddy's."

"She's her father's daughter, that's for sure," remarked Austin, smiling indulgently.

Janey watched the interchange, a lump forming in her throat.

_Were Rin and I ever that happy?_ She thought. _He was never so relaxed, never smiled much, after Austin was born. He always wanted a son… Michelangelo doesn't seem to mind that his first child is a girl. _She focused on her daughter, watching the way Austin's hazel eyes sparkled with laughter as Michelangelo played peek-a-boo with the baby. _She's so content, so relaxed. So happy. _

Austin came to the table, setting a cup of tea in front of Janey. "Your eggs will be ready in a moment, Mother," she said.

Janey nodded, lifting the cup to take a careful sip. She made a face.

"What is this? It's not what you usually buy, Lucille."

"It will help," said Splinter quietly.

"You made this?" Janey set the tea down quite suddenly.

"_I_ made it, Mother. It's Splinter's special blend," said Austin. "He thought it might help fight the nausea. I used to drink it when I was pregnant with Skylar."

Janey looked up. Austin met her gaze with a sharp look.

"How thoughtful, Splinter," said Luci, breaking the tension. "Is it the same blend you gave Ann?"

"_Hai,_ yes," replied Splinter. "The herbs settle the stomach."

"I… thank you," said Janey faintly. She reached out, and picked up the cup. She took a slow, careful sip. The tea had a strong mint flavor. After a few sips, she set it aside, but to Janey's surprise, when Austin set a plate of eggs in front of her, they smelled _good._ Janey sat, eating slowly, and tried to ignore the waves of tension that made her hands tremble. As long as she didn't look at the mutants, she could pretend everything was normal.

"So, I guess, uh, you're gonna want to hang out with your mom today, right Austin?" asked Michelangelo.

"It depends on how Mother feels," replied Austin. "I'd hoped we could all spend some time together. I'd like you to get to know my family better, Mother."

"Of… of course, Dear," said Janey, forcing a smile. She set her fork down. "So, Michelangelo, what do…" She trailed off, realizing how foolish it would be to ask what he did for a living.

_It's not as if he can hold a job._

"What do I what?" Michelangelo looked at her with a confused expression.

"I meant to say, how do you spend your time?" asked Janey, feeling heat creep into her cheeks.

"Oh. Uh, well, we spend a lot of time training," said Michelangelo. "An' Austin an' me kick butt at Halo. You know, when she's not working…"

"I think Mother was asking about your job, Mike," said Austin with a thin smile. "Michelangelo illustrates children's picture books, Mother," she said. "He's very talented." She laid a protective hand on her husband's arm.

Janey was startled to see the mutant's cheeks darken.

_Is he _blushing?

"Oh, yeah, that. Yeah." He smiled. "Um, I had a book out last year. And I'm pretty sure I'll get the contract for this new one. It's all about aliens, and they live on this weird planet with blue trees…" He glanced at Austin, trailing off, and shook his head. "Sorry. Donny says I talk too much when I get excited."

"Nonsense," said Austin firmly. She smiled, her pride obvious. "You're an amazing artist. After breakfast, I'll get Skylar's copy of _Turtles on the Moon_. I know Mother would like to see it."

"Of course, Austin," said Janey quickly. _He's an artist. I can't believe this._

"Michelangelo is a very talented young man," said Lucille. "He takes after his father."

Janey nearly choked on her egg. _A Turtle takes after a Rat?_

"Splinter is very talented as well," continued Luci. "He was kind enough to show me a few strokes, but I'm afraid I don't quite have the knack for it yet."

"You did very well, Lucille-san," said Splinter seriously. "You must simply remember not to dip your fingers into the ink."

Luci laughed, and Janey was startled to see color rising in her cheeks. The Rat's whiskers twitched with apparent amusement.

A wave of dizziness passed over Janey. There was just something… not-quite-right, about the four-foot tall Rat sitting at her table. About the way her sister was blushing and giggling like a girl in her teens.

"I… please excuse me," she said. She stood up.

Luci got up, too, coming quickly to her side.

"Janey, dear, what's wrong?"

"I… I'm sorry, Luci. I'm so sorry, Austin. This… this is just all… too much." She started toward the door.

"Mother?"

The anguish in Austin's voice made Janey pause, but she didn't turn. She couldn't, couldn't bear the thought of spending one more moment in the company of her daughter's otherworldly family.

"I'm sorry, Austin."

She left the room without looking back.


	65. Chapter 64 Plan B

**Chapter 64 ~**_**Plan B~**_

The soles of Karai's soft shoes made no sound as she paced in front of her disgraced lieutenant. It was a fair measure of her agitation that she was pacing at all. In the years Masaru had been in her service, she'd rarely been this furious with him. Not only had he failed to report the full extent of the disaster in the printing operation, when she'd summoned him, he wasn't even in his quarters. She'd been on the verge of sending the Elite out after him when he'd returned, as bold as brass, to Foot Tower, as if nothing had gone wrong, as if the counterfeiting operation hadn't come crashing down with the interference of the Turtles.

_Hun's increased pressure should have distracted them. It should have been _enough_. And yet they have obstructed my plans yet _again_._

"_Tell me again, Hayate, how the Turtles defeated you?_" she snapped.

The man kneeling before her flinched at the use of his given name.

"_I am your humble servant, Mistress,"_ he muttered. _"The Turtles attacked at the office itself. I do not know how they discovered the printing operation. Your men fought well but…"_

"_But it wasn't enough!" _Karai paused, standing stiff with fury in front of him.

"_Fool! How did you come to betray me this way, Masaru? You have become sloppy lately, careless. I have been patient, perhaps too patient, because of your years of faithful service, but even my patience must come to an end."_

"_Hai, Mistress." _He bowed his head.

"_I have already dissolved our partnership with Hun. This entire operation has become a liability. As have _you_, Masaru Hayate."_

Karai drew her short dagger. It was time Masaru removed himself from her service. His recent erratic behavior was far too dangerous. She could not risk the Foot to the misguided aspirations of a fool. She was about to pronounce his sentence when he spoke.

"_I can get them back._"

Karai paused, her mind racing. The plates were valuable, perhaps irreplaceable, and every moment they were in the Turtle's hands took them further out of her reach. Masaru, in spite of his present failing, had been her second-in-command for a reason. It would, perhaps, be worth hearing what he had to say.

"_Speak."_

"_The plates. I can get them back._"

"_How?"_ Karai scowled with impatience.

_If this is a stalling tactic, you will die painfully, Masaru._

The man didn't raise his eyes. _"Rin Abramson has approached me, Mistress. He wishes our help in extracting his daughter from the mutant clan. _

_By seizing the daughter of Rin Abramson, we would be able to negotiate a pact with the Turtles. They hold their human women dear. They would go to any length to retrieve her unharmed, including returning the plates."_

"_You would lower us to kidnappers? To holding hostages?_" Karai shook her head. "_Where is the honor in such a tactic?"_

"_This is the Turtle's only weakness, Mistress. They value life, above all else. They will come,_" he said, this time daring to look up at her with a fleeting glance.

"_So, you believe that defending the honor of their family indicates weakness?_" she said. Her voice was quiet, dangerous.

"_No, I… I only meant, Mistress, the Turtles…_"

"_I understand you, Masaru Hayate. Perhaps better than you understand your_self_," _Karai cut him off coldly. _"You wish us to enter into a contract with Rin Abramson, then use what he holds dear to negotiate with the Turtles. It smells of a double-cross, Masaru. Does the Foot Clan's honor mean nothing to you? Would you risk tarnishing your honor in defense of your life?"_

"_No, Mistress," _Masaru protested. Karai saw a tremor run through the man. _"We would return the woman to Rin-san as soon as the plates are in our possession, keeping our word to the Turtles _and_ to Abramson."_

Karai nodded slowly. The plan had advantages. Careful strategy, she knew, was the hallmark of a great general. The plates, the entire operation, had been a financial risk from the beginning. Retrieving the printing plates would mean recouping what might otherwise be a severe loss. Coming to a decision, she re-sheathed her dagger.

"_This is your final opportunity, Masaru. I have tolerated your failures this long, but let us be clear, I will tolerate no more. You _will_ retrieve the plates, Masaru. You will protect the honor of this Clan. This is your _last_ chance to redeem yourself. Are we clear?_"

"_We are, Mistress Karai,_" answered Masaru through gritted teeth. _"Very clear."_

"_Good."_

She turned and walked away from him, pacing away toward her desk. Behind her, the man got to his feet without raising his head, and backed out of the room.

Karai made her way to her desk and sat down. She waited until Masaru would have sufficient time before calling the Elite into her presence. They entered, silent as shadows.

"Go. Follow Masaru. Be certain he does not fail again. Report his movements to me."

The leader of the four nodded, his black eyes glittering behind his mask. Karai nodded her dismissal, and as silently as they'd appeared, they vanished.

Karai sighed, but her hand only hesitated for an instant before she pushed a button on the small pad next to her phone. It seemed to her that even the swift, weak series of taps at her door were insipid and annoying.

"Come."

"You called, Mistress Karai? It's really good timing, because I just reached a major breakthrough in the new bionic servos. Our lunch carts will move at nearly _twice_ the speed they go now, it'll raise productivity and cut back on wasted time…"

Karai held up one hand, cutting the man off mid-sentence.

"Dr. Chaplin. The printing operation."

"Oh, yes, I've been analyzing some of the paper from that… erm, requisitioned shipment. That was a great accomplishment, Mistress, did you know that the paper is nearly impossible to replicate…"

"I am aware, Dr. Chaplin, of the _investment_ Saki Co. has made into this operation," said Karai coldly. "What I need from you is information on the _plates._"

"The printing plates? They're very unique, Mistress. Did you know, that the best counterfeiters ever known were prisoners of the Nazis in World War II? Barracks Nineteen was a group of prisoners who were forced to create plates so that the Germans could print off British pounds. The prisoners studied actual currency and worked day and night to hand-engrave the plates, which were in turn used to print money that passed inspection. It was cleared by the Bank of England as authentic…"

"The currency I am interested in _now_, Dr. Chaplin," said Karai, in her most dangerously quiet tone, "Is a bit more… modern. The printing plates have been stolen. We may not be able to retrieve them. What must we do to avoid a complete disaster?"

Chaplin's mouth fell open, reminding Karai irritatingly of a roast sea bass she'd returned to the kitchens only a few evenings before. The uncomfortable memory of the indigestion made her stomach roll over. She watched as Chaplin struggled to regain his composure, and her stomach tightened in protest.

Finally he regained his powers of speech.

"Well, I um… Well obviously this is a… a major setback…" He swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"I am aware of the gravity of the situation, Dr. Chaplin." Karai said icily. "What I need from you is not speculation, but solutions."

"Well, I um… I took the liberty of um… making um… well…"

"My patience wears thin, Dr. Chaplin."

Chaplin's spine stiffened under Karai's glare. He swallowed again.

"I took the liberty of taking scans of the plates, you know, strictly as a precaution. With the scans, and some time, we could possibly… um… recreate… umm… that is… it would take a great deal of um… There aren't many people, you see, who have the skill to create the template…"

"Dr. Chaplin."

Chaplin froze mid-sentence, and nodded nervously. "I'd have to create design software, program the templates, then we'd have to find an engraver capable of creating the fine detail work involved…"

"How long?" snapped Karai, her patience running out.

"A year," he said hastily, turning even pastier. "Maybe longer, depending on finding the right engraver."

"A _year_?"

Karai sank into her chair, hiding her distress. "Very well, Dr. Chaplin. Your team may begin immediately."

"But the servos…" yelped Chaplin.

"Can wait, Dr. Chaplin."

Karai watched Chaplin's expression go from shocked disappointment to interest and back to his usual over-eager excitement.

"If we follow the specifications exactly…"

"Dr. Chaplin."

"Yes, Mistress, I'll get right on it, right now."

_Do that._ Karai sighed as Chaplin scurried out of her office.

_It would seem that once again I find myself dependent upon that limpid fool. Masaru has much to answer for. If his plan is not successful, his life is forfeit. _


	66. Chapter 65 Attack

**Chapter 65 ~**_**Attack~**_

Lucille tapped gently on Janey's door before entering. Janey sat on the rocking chair, cradling the picture of Austin and Skylar in her hands. She looked up before Luci could speak.

"I'm sorry, Luci, I am. I just… I can't bear…" She trailed off, tears sliding down her thin cheeks. "I'm… I'm not as strong as you, Luci. I don't… I don't understand, how Austin could… I mean…"

"How Austin could love someone so different?" Lucille shook her head, coming to Janey's side. She gazed down at the picture, with a sad smile.

"Janey, I was… confused, at first, too. But I've had a chance to get to know them, see their family living and working together. They're unusual, I know, but Janey, they're…" She paused, drawing a breath. "They're so… they're so special, so _unique_. They've done so much for us already…" _For Austin's sake._  
"I've never known a family this close. Austin is _safe_ because of Michelangelo and his brothers. He'd give his life to protect her, and that precious baby."

Janey's expression softened. "Skylar is beautiful. Of course she is. She's my granddaughter."

"Splinter is beautiful, too," said Lucille quietly. "Janey, he's been through so much, and he's so calm, so gentle, and so strong…"

"I know." Janey reached up, taking Lucille's hand in her slim fingers. Her hands shook as she gazed into Luci's eyes. "Luci, I know you think you're in love, and I'm happy for you, after all these years but…" She shook her head.

"I _am_ in love," said Luci quietly, taking her hand back. "Janey, please. Give him a chance. If not for me, for Austin. He's more than her sensei. She looks up to him as a father. Janey, if you can't accept him as part of her family now, you may lose her."

"I've already lost her," said Janey sadly. She turned her face away. "I'm proud of her… she's so… so strong, so beautiful. She's grown up and she has her own life. She doesn't need me anymore."

"Janey, she will always need you," protested Lucille, but her sister shook her head and slowly maneuvered out of the chair, making her way toward the bed.

"I'd like to rest now, Luci."

"All right." Lucille helped her sister into the bed, drawing the coverings gently over her. Janey lay back, closing her eyes.

Luci picked up her pad of paper from the floor, where she'd dropped it when the initial call came from Austin. Janey was lying on her bed, her eyes closed, though Luci knew she wasn't actually asleep yet. Something in her too-stiff posture as she lay back against the pillows thrummed Lucille's nerves like guitar strings, sending hums of tension writhing through her.

"Oh, Janey," she said, half to herself, smoothing her hand over the paper pad. She traced her finger over the grayish, imperfect lotus petal. "I wish you could see him the way I do." She swallowed hard, remembering the feel of Splinter's hand over hers as he guided her brush. Janey didn't stir, didn't respond.

_You're my sister, Janey, but Splinter… I just don't know. Am I wrong, to expect you to give him a chance? Am I deluding myself? But he feels it too, I know he does. How can I turn my back on this? How many people get a second chance at happiness?_

Slowly, she straightened, closing the cover carefully over, and stacking her stone, ink stick, and brush neatly. Tears filled Lucille's eyes, and for once, she didn't blink them away. She stood for a moment, watching the faint movement of her sister's chest as she breathed.

"I love you, Janey-the-pain," whispered Lucille.

She turned away, one hand straying to her neck without conscious thought. When her fingers touched bare skin, Lucille started, stroking the place where her necklace had rested for decades. The flowers on the dresser caught her eye, and she smiled. She moved across the room, and reached out, touching the petals of the daisy. They slid, silky, under her fingertips, and the faint, spicy scent wafted up, comforting, intriguing. Luci gathered the little bouquet close to her face, breathing deeply.

_What's the right choice? I hate seeing Janey upset, but they've come all this way to protect us. How can I make her understand?_

Setting the flowers down, she left the room, closing the door quietly behind her. Lucille returned reluctantly to the dining room. Austin was still seated at the table. A plate of eggs sat in front of her, but she wasn't even making a show of eating. She sat, staring into space. Michelangelo and Skylar were nowhere to be seen, but Splinter was sitting at the table, calmly sipping his tea.

Drawing a deep breath, Luci looked at Splinter. "I'm… I'm sorry."

He shook his head, not quite meeting her eyes. "There is no fault," he said. "And no need for apologies, Lucille-san."

"Splinter, I know this is difficult," said Lucille, coming to sit at the table. She saw his whiskers quiver. "Janey… This is all very new for her, and she's been so ill…"

"We're leaving, Aunt Luci," said Austin suddenly. "It's clear Mother can't accept my family. We can't stay here."

"Austin-chan." Splinter spoke before Luci could protest. "We cannot leave your _oba-san _unprotected. We must remain until we are certain the danger has past." He turned to Lucille. "However, if our presence causes Ms. Abramson distress, we will leave your home, and continue our vigil from somewhere nearby."

"Oh no, you can't," said Luci. "Where would you go? There's no place to hide in this neighborhood. You can't have little Skylar outside in this weather. You must stay here."

Splinter looked at her, troubled. "Lucille-san, perhaps it would be best… Michelangelo and Skylar do not seem to upset Ms. Abramson. I believe it is _my_ appearance she finds disturbing. Perhaps…"

"No." Austin stood up. "Splinter, you can't leave. If you do, I'm going too. I won't stay a moment in a house where you're not welcome, Father."

The Rat sighed. "Austin-chan," he said gently. "She is your mother."

"And she _left_ me," snapped Austin. "All those years ago." Austin paced away from the table, clearly agitated. "Abandoned me."

"She didn't want to leave you," said Luci quietly. "Rin made it impossible for her to stay, Austin. Please try to understand."

"I _do_ understand, Aunt Luci," said Austin without turning around. "I know what he's like. I know…"

"Did you know that he was pressuring her to risk a second pregnancy?" asked Lucille quietly. "He wanted another child, but the doctors had advised against it."

Austin's breathing hitched, but she still didn't turn to look at Luci. Her shoulders were shaking. Luci moved across the room, and laid a tentative hand on her niece's arm.

"Austin, she never meant to leave you. She wanted to take you with her. Rin caught her packing, and he threw her out of the house. He refused to let her take you that night, wouldn't even let her say good bye. She tried… She tried so hard, but his lawyers…"

A movement at her side startled Lucille. Splinter met her eyes, and Lucille stepped back. He took Austin's hands in his own, and the young woman met his gaze.

"Austin-chan," he said gently. "The past must not guide our future path. Your mother needs you here now. Would you truly abandon her, knowing the danger?"

"I… I guess I can't," said Austin, drawing a shaky breath. "I can't leave her."

Splinter shook his head. "You are not your mother, Austin-chan," he told her. "You are _ninja_, and you are _musume._"

Austin sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around the Rat and burying her face in his shoulder. He stroked her hair tenderly. Lucille watched, tears stinging her own eyes.

_He calls her his daughter. No wonder Austin loves him. Oh Janey… I wish you could see how much. I wish you could see how good he is for her._

She went to Austin, laying a hand on her shoulder. "Splinter's right," she said softly. "I know this is difficult, Austin, but Janey needs you. We both do. Please. Don't go."

Austin shuddered, but lifted her head, releasing Splinter. He stepped back, but kept his hands on her shoulders for a moment. The young woman sniffed, composing herself, before raising her head to look at Lucille determinedly.

"We'll stay, Aunt Luci, but only until we're sure you're safe. I… I can't call her my mother. Not if she rejects my family, the only people who've ever been there for me."

"Austin, please…"

Austin shook her head. "I'm sorry. I will show her proper respect," her gaze flicked toward Splinter. "But I can't let her be a part of my life if she can't accept my family."

"She has so little time left, Austin," Luci pleaded.

Austin got to her feet. "I'm sorry, Aunt Luci," she said softly, cutting off her aunt. "I'm going to check on Mike. He was going to try to lay Skylar down for a nap. She got up very early this morning."

"All right, dear." Luci stepped aside to let Austin pass, though it felt as if her heart would break in two as she watched her niece leave the room.

Luci turned to Splinter. He was watching her, as if he were waiting for something.

"Can't you talk to her, Splinter?" she asked impulsively.

He shook his head. "Austin must make her peace with her mother in her own way," he said. "I can not interfere."

"But Janey… She doesn't mean to be…" Lucille faltered under his steady gaze. "Splinter, please try to understand. How many people can meet you without… well, without being shocked? And Janey…" She hesitated. "Forgive me." She reached out, taking his hand. He tensed slightly, but didn't pull away, just watched her.

"She was bitten by a friend's pet rat when we were children," she said. "She's always been afraid, ever since then…"

"I assure you, Lucille-san, I do not bite," answered Splinter, taking his hand away. "Please, excuse me. I wish to speak to Michelangelo. We should devise a plan for defending your home, should the Foot attack."

"Splinter, I'm sorry, I didn't mean…" Lucille trailed off.

He shook his head. "Please, excuse me," he repeated, making his way out of the room.

Lucille sank down in a chair, resting her chin in her hands. A hollow emptiness swelled in her chest.

_Well, that went just beautifully. What was I _thinking?_ Telling him about that… He must think I'm such a fool. But I only told him so he'd understand… I didn't think he'd be offended. He must understand his appearance is… startling, when one first meets him. If we'd met under different circumstances, I might've been frightened of him, too. I _was_ frightened, when I first saw him._

Her train of thought was shattered by a _crash_. She heard a shout, then thuds. _What on earth?_

Instinctively, Lucille ran out into the living area. She scanned the space but saw nothing out of place. She dashed across the living room, down the hall and burst into Janey's room as her sister sat up on the bed.

"Luci? What's going on?" Janey's voice was thick with sleep. She stood up as Lucille approached, but her gaze was unfocused, her movements uncoordinated. "What was that noise? Has something happened? Where's Austin?"

Before Lucille could answer, the bedroom door _slammed_ against the wall with a crash, and Janey screamed, clutching at her sister. Lucille moved in front of her, pushing her back. Figures poured into the room, wearing the same black uniforms Luci'd seen on the men who'd attacked Raphael. They approached the women, their faces hidden behind eerie black masks, the mesh eye coverings making them appear insect-like. The one closest to them spoke.

"You will come with us."

There was a muffled cry from elsewhere in the house.

"Austin!" Janey cried out, jerking in Luci's grip as if she'd move toward the door. She clutched her sister's arm. "Luci, what's happening? Where is Austin? _Where is my daughter?_"

Splinter appeared in the doorway, moving into the room like a wraith behind the men. Lucille kept her eyes firmly on the man approaching them.

"You keep away from my sister!" she snapped.

There was a flurry of movement, and two of the black-clad men fell. A third lunged toward Lucille. Before she could respond, Janey was ripped away from her. The man clutched her sister to his chest, pressing a short blade against her throat.

"Janey, no!" Luci shrieked, starting forward. The blade jerked, and she froze. "Let her go," she pleaded. "She's ill… please…"

"Stop!" Suddenly Splinter was there. He looked nearly demonic, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. "Let the woman go."

The man holding her laughed, a cold, cruel sound that sent ice racing down Luci's spine.

"Wait." Splinter held out his hands, his eyes never leaving the man who had Janey. "Let the woman go. What honor is there in killing her? Release her. It is not her you want."

Luci saw the man quiver. Janey didn't make a sound. Her eyes were wide, her face white. Her terrified gaze flicked from her sister to the Rat. Splinter stood, watching him, tense but unmoving, for a long moment.

"You will surrender. You will come with us."

"Very well," said Splinter quietly. "Release her."

The man took the blade from Janey's throat and gave her a hard shove toward Lucille in one smooth motion. Janey staggered, but Luci caught her, lifting her up, drawing her close, dragging her back, away from the men. They surged forward.

"Splinter! No!" Lucille's anguished cry went unheeded, but a flurry of green, brown and orange exploded into the room. The chaos was instant, but lasted only a few seconds. When Luci blinked again, five black-clad men lay in various states of consciousness on the floor.

Michelangelo, stood, a pair of nunchucks dangling from his hands, his blue eyes hard as he scanned the room as if searching for more enemies. Austin was behind him, her hands still in a defensive position.

"Aunt Luci! Mother! Are you all right? They didn't hurt you?"

"I'm all right, Austin," said Janey. Her breathing was shallow and coming in short gasps. "I'm all right." She straightened, turning to Lucille. "That awful man… Luci…" She collapsed against her sister. Luci's arms went automatically around her waist, drawing her sister protectively close.

"It's all right now, Janey. They're not going to harm you again," she said softly, smoothing Janey's hair with one hand. "Are you sure you're all right? Did that horrid man hurt you?"

"No… no, I'm fine," Janey managed.

"I apologize, Lucille," said Splinter quietly. "Had I moved more quickly…"

"You were… you were going to give yourself up to them. To save us." Janey said, sounding dazed. She straightened, watching Splinter. Luci kept a protective arm around her sister's waist.

The Rat nodded grimly. "I could not allow them to harm you, Ms. Abramson."

"It looks like Father was right," interjected Austin. "The Foot came after you, just like he said."

"But _why_?" Lucille's voice shook. "Why did they come _here?_ They've never bothered us, Janey and I, before. Why now?"

"I don't know, Aunt Luci. I'm really sorry," said Austin quietly. She stepped away from her husband and came toward her aunt, but Luci stiffened, drawing Janey closer to her side, and Austin stopped.

"Luci," said Janey softly.

Lucille turned instinctively to her sister, searching for injuries, for signs she was in pain. "What is it, Janey? Did that awful man hurt you?"

"Luci," said Janey again, reaching up to grasp her sister's shoulder so that she turned to face her. "He… Splinter…"

"I'm sorry, Janey. I shouldn't have allowed them to come…" _I should have protected you… Janey, I'm so sorry._

Janey shook her head. "_Lucille Rose_," she snapped with more energy than Lucille'd heard from her in months.

Luci blinked. Her sister managed a weak smile, but Luci saw determination in her eyes.

"He… he saved us," she said softly. "He was going to give himself up. Don't you see, Luci-Rose? He was going to sacrifice himself for us… for me. Luci… I was wrong."

"Oh, Janey." Lucille wrapped her sister up in a tight hug. _I was so afraid I'd lost you._

"Luci," breathed Janey. "I need to lie down."

"Of course, dearest," Luci released her embrace instantly, the familiar worry rising up. She peered into Janey's face before glancing toward the black-clad figures still prone on the floor. _It's not safe. _

"We'll clear 'em out, don't you worry, Mrs. Chesney," said Michelangelo cheerfully.

"All right, Michelangelo. Thank you." Lucille forced a smile. She couldn't quite meet Splinter's eyes.

"Thank you, Michelangelo," said Janey quietly. "For everything. Luci and I are very grateful for your help." She smiled, and Luci felt a lump form in her throat.

_She's finally accepted him._ _All it took was a battle for all our lives…_

Janey turned to Splinter, stepping away from her sister's supporting arm. Lucille tensed, but stood still, watching. Splinter met her sister's gaze warily, his ears swiveled slightly back and his whiskers twitching.

"I must apologize, Hamato Splinter-san," said Janey formally. "Will you please forgive me?"

The Rat stared for an instant, still with shock, before he gave her a very formal bow. "Of course, Janey Abramson-san."

Lucille watched, tears filling her eyes as Janey held out her hand. She held her breath as Splinter hesitated. After a moment, his dark eyes flicked to Lucille, and back to Janey. He took her hand in his own.

"I am honored."


	67. Chapter 66 Speculation

**Chapter 66 ~_Speculation_~**

Raphael's headlong run through the sewer tunnels was driven by one thought: Get to his brother before Donatello did something insane. Like try to take on the entire Foot Tower single handed in a kamikaze mission to retrieve the missing little boy.

_Shell_, thought Raph. _Don's gonna snap. We gotta get dat kid back, before…_ He cut off the train of thought. _It ain't gonna happen. Not on my watch. We'll get da kid back, an' we'll take dem Foot goons _down. _It hadta be them. Who else woulda taken him?_

"Raph! Raph, wait up!" Casey sounded winded, but Raphael didn't slow his pace. _Sorry, man. You know the way down here almost as well as I do. At least, you should, by now. I gotta get to Donny._

"Raph!" Casey's voice echoed, but Raphael had already reached the entrance. He reached up, yanking the pipe with more force than truly necessary, and waited impatiently for the door to slide open. He dashed inside before it could fully disappear into the special pocket Donny'd created in the wall.

"Leo! Don!"

"In here, Raph," called Leonardo from Don's lab.

Raphael hurried across the living area, pushing the heavy door of the lab area open. "Donny, I…"

"Hang on," Leo hissed. Don just waved his hand. He was sitting at his desk, leaning in to the computer screen. He had the oversized dj style headphones on. Raph paused in the doorway. Shadowy figures moved jerkily across the screen. Donatello swore under his breath, and Raph came closer, peering over his brother's shoulder.

"Hey, dat's da kid's window."

"Easy, Raph," said Leonardo grimly, his own gaze glued to the screen. "It's a recording."

Raphael's eyes narrowed, and he could feel the heat growing in his face as he watched. Black figures slipped in through the window. There was a flurry of movement in the room, and seconds later, they climbed out, disappearing up the fire escape, but now one of the Foot was carrying what looked like a large bag. As Raphael watched, it _moved._

"He's alive," breathed Donatello. He watched the footage for a moment longer, but the Foot disappeared, out of the camera's view over the roof top.

"What now, Fearless?" asked Raphael.

"I… I don't know," said Leo stiffly, watching the screen, though now it only showed an empty, silent window.

Donatello hit a couple buttons, and the screen flickered. A figure appeared inside the room, moving in frame-by-frame jerks to the bed.

_The woman,_ thought Raphael. He watched as she moved around the room, obviously searching for Isamu, before disappearing out the door again. A few frames later, more figures poured into the room, obviously police. Don's shoulders hunched, and one hand cupped the headphone.

"The woman… she's crying," he said softly. "She says they left the stuffed turtle… he'll want it… he's just a baby, who could've done this…"

Raphael turned away, frustration preventing him from standing still a moment longer. He paced away a few steps, then returned, drawn irrevocably to the screen.

The outer door ground open and closed again, and Casey Jones' thumping footsteps could be heard echoing through the Lair. Bailey barked loudly, and Casey yelped.

"Hi, Casey. Bailey, _down,_" commanded Ann.

At any other time, Raphael would've laughed. The dog seemed to delight in lunging at Casey Jones. He'd never actually bitten the man, but Raph could swear the dog was smirking every time Casey screamed like a girl.

"Raph! Where are ya, man?"

"In here, Case," called Raphael, his eyes never leaving the screen. He heard the man come into the room, but didn't turn around.

Donatello's shoulders twitched. "Shell…"

"What? What is it, Donny?" Leonardo laid a hand on Don's shoulder, getting his attention.

"What's goin' on, guys? Whatcha lookin' at?" Casey asked.

Don turned away from the screen, taking the headphones off slowly.

"They don't have a clue." He shook his head. "The cop was asking what he's wearing, and if it's possible he could've climbed down the fire escape on his own. She said he's been hiding out in the closet a lot." Don's face was set, his mouth pinched and grim.

"What?" Raphael was perfectly aware that he was shouting, but didn't much care.

"Ya got video of da kid?" Casey stared at the computer, his fists clenching. "Didja find out who took 'im?"

"It's the Foot, Casey," said Donatello distractedly. "We thought it must be, but this just confirms it. We've got to go after him. We've got to get him back."

"Damn straight," muttered the man. He was glaring at the computer screen as if he expected the Foot to come through it like a window.

"What on earth is going on in here?" Ann spoke from the doorway. "Raph?"

"It's da kid, Annie," Raphael spoke up reluctantly. "He's missin'. Da… da Foot, they took 'im, but we're gonna get 'im back."

Ann nodded, though she was pale. "Of course you are," she said, glancing toward Donatello. Her hands clasped protectively over her stomach.

Unable to hold back, Raph went to his wife, wrapping his arms around her.

"It's gonna be ok, Annie. We're gonna _make_ it ok," he promised.

"O' course it is. We're gonna get 'im back. Dem lousy Foot ain't gonna get away wit' dis," growled Casey. "What're we waitin' fer, guys? Let's go."

"We need to _plan_, Casey," said Leo with infuriating calm, but Raphael could hear the tension running clearly through his tone.

Ann drew a shuddering breath, putting her hands on his plastron, and stepping back. "Be careful," she said softly. "I'll… I'll just get out of your way so you guys can work. Let me know if there's anything I can help with."

"Ann, if you wouldn't mind, maybe you can tell the other girls," said Leonardo.

"Wait," said Don, spinning in his chair. "I… I should talk to Bev."

Raphael turned to face his brother. Something flickered in Donatello's expression, a worry Raphael understood well. _He wants ta tell 'er himself_.

"There's no time, Donny…" Leonardo began, but Raphael caught his eye and shook his head. Leo started, staring at Raph, as if he'd say something more, but then his mouth snapped shut. "All right."

"What about dis chick?" asked Raphael, poking the monitor with one finger, deliberately changing the subject. "What're they doin'?"

Donatello glanced at the screen. The shadowy image of the foster-mother was frozen in time.

"I think she wants to help find him, Raph. She was describing the clothes and stuff he was wearing."

"You're right, Donny," said Leonardo. "But where do we look?"

"We go find one o' dem Foot an' we beat it outta 'im," grumbled Casey, half to himself. Raphael smirked, but the others ignored him, well used to his ranting.

"This is Masaru's doing," said Donatello grimly. "He wants the boy dead. But why take him away? Why not… I mean, sure a murder would bring out an investigation, but a kidnapping? They're going to have every cop in the city looking for him. Why would they risk it?"

"He must have some reason for keeping the boy alive," said Leonardo. "He's going to use him for something. To draw us out, maybe? He must know you'd be watching the boy, after you attacked him for threatening him."

"I don't know. Nothing this guy does makes any sense," answered Don.

"Well what're we gonna _do_?" asked Raph. "Sittin' here talkin' ain't gonna get da kid back. We gotta find 'im."

"We will, Raph." Donatello turned back to the computer. His fingers flew over the keyboard.

"What're you doing, Donny?" asked Leo.

"Checking something."

"What're ya lookin' for, Genius?"

"Just a _minute_, Raph," snapped Don.

Leonardo jerked, and yanked his cell from his belt.

"Yes?" He listened for a moment, his face growing grimmer. "Is everyone all right?… Are you sure?… Skylar?… Of course, Mikey, I know, but… Ok. Ok, thanks for letting me know. We've got a crisis of our own here. I'll call you back, ok?… No, don't come home. They may make a second attempt, and it sounds as if Ms. Abramson and Lucille need your protection."

Raphael waited impatiently while Leo hung up with their younger brother. He looked at Leo expectantly.

Leonardo met his gaze and sighed. "The Foot made an attempt on Mrs. Abramson," he said quietly.

"Ya mean dem…" Casey glanced in the direction of the door Ann had just disappeared through. "They went afta Austin's ma?"

Leonardo nodded grimly. "They broke into the house, but Sensei, Mike and Austin were able to fight them off. Lucille and Ms. Abramson are pretty shaken up, but everyone's ok."

"What the shell are they _doin'_, Fearless? Since when does Karai go aftah kids an' sick ol' women?" asked Raphael, dumbfounded.

Donatello spun in his chair. "Karai _doesn't_, he said. "Leo, I'd be willing to bet Karai doesn't even know what's been going on. This… all of this, it's been Masaru all along."

Leonardo frowned. Raph could see the gears turning behind his dark eyes.

"What do you think he's up to, Donny? Why Isamu? Why Mrs. Abramson? What's this guy got planned?"

"I don't know yet," said Don slowly. "It can't be a coincidence that they went after Mrs. Abramson and Lucille. Didn't _Rin_ call Austin to warn her?"

"It was a trap," said Leo slowly. "He was trying to lure us out of the City. But _why?_"

"Divide and conquer," responded Don. "He had to figure Mikey and Austin would go, to protect her, but he had no way of knowing Splinter would go with them. They probably figured Mike and Austin, on their own, would make an easier target. They're trying to break us up, to pick us off."

"Well how does all dat help us find da kid? We're runnin' outta _time_."

"The common factor here seems to be Austin's father," said Leonardo slowly. "We could start with him."

"We're goin' after Austin's dad?" Raphael spun a sai in his fingers, tucking it deftly back into his belt. _Shell, I'd like another crack at _that_ guy. _

"It seems as solid a lead as any. Go talk to Bev, then grab whatever gear you think you'll need, Donny. There's no time to lose."

Donatello nodded. "On it, Leo."

"I'm goin' topside," said Casey. "I'll start scoutin' around. Mebbe I can find somethin'. Hit me on da cell, ok?"

"We'll keep in touch, Casey," said Leonardo. "Call us if you find anything."

"You got it."

"Leo?" Sierra stood in the doorway, hesitant. "What's going on? Ann says Isamu has gone missing?"

"The Foot took him," said Leonardo bluntly.

Raphael saw the woman flinch as if she'd taken a physical blow. _Way ta break da news gently, Fearless._

"Don't worry, Sierra. We'll get 'im back," he said gruffly.

"You will, won't you?" she asked, glancing at Raphael and back to Leonardo.

"We're going to do our best, Sierra," said Leo more gently.

A smirk tugged at Raphael's mouth at the way his brother's expression softened, but he stifled it for Sierra's sake. Now was not the time to tease Leo.

"I'll jus' check on Donny an' Bev," said Raphael, heading for the door. Sierra moved aside to let him pass. "Don't worry, Sis. We'll get da bas… Uh, we'll get 'em. An' we'll get da kid back, too."

"I hope so, Raph." She squeezed his arm familiarly, and this time he couldn't hold back a smile.

He headed toward the stairs, intending to check on Ann before interrupting his younger brother, but a sound from Don and Bev's room had him, turning in that direction. The harsh sobs were muffled as Raphael approached. He hesitated as Kouki's rising wail joined his mother's.

_Shell, I didn't think Bev'd take it dis hard,_ thought Raphael. _Better leave 'em alone a few minutes, but we gotta get goin'. I hope Donny can calm 'er down. Maybe Ann…_

"Beverly, it was not your fault."

Ann's voice, coming from the room, changed his mind. He headed in that direction, resigned. _Might as well join da party._

"Annie?" Raph tapped lightly on the door frame.

The door swung open and Donatello nodded grimly to his brother, inviting him in.

"Bev, what's done is done. You can't blame yourself," he said, turning to his wife.

She was standing next to Kouki's crib, picking him up. The baby's arms wrapped around his mother's neck, clinging. When she turned around, Raphael saw that her blue eyes were red-rimmed with tears, her face splotchy from crying. He stared. He'd never seen Bev this upset. Of the girls, she was the calmest, the least easily shaken.

"I should've listened to you," she said, visibly struggling to gather her composure. "Donny, I'm sorry."

Donatello went to her, wrapping her and Kouki up in a firm embrace.

"_Itoshi,_" he whispered. "Don't. It's going to be ok. I'll get him back, I promise you. And I will make them pay."

Beverly nodded against his shoulder, and turned her face to press her lips to his cheek.

"Go. I'm slowing you down. I love you. Be careful."

Donatello gave his wife a quick squeeze before releasing her with apparent reluctance. "Ann, can you…?"

"I'll stay with her, Donny, don't worry," said Ann. She moved to Beverly's side, sliding a protective arm around her waist. "Sierra and I will make sure she's ok. You guys go. Do what you have to. Just be careful."

"Always are," said Don automatically, but his gaze was still on his wife. He reached out, giving her shoulder a squeeze, before turning away. "Come on, Raph. We've got to go."

"Yeah." Raphael followed his brother out of the room. "Donny, what was all dat about?"

Donatello continued down the stairs, not looking at his brother. "She's blaming herself for not letting me take Isamu back before this," he said quietly.

"Ya were gonna bring him back? Why?" Raphael's eyes narrowed. Something was going on, something he didn't understand. Raph hated mysteries, especially when it came to his family.

"We… we want to adopt him, Raph." Donatello turned as they reached the base of the stairs. "Bev and I. We want to bring him here, to raise him with Kouki."

"You _what?_ Donny, are you outta yer gourd?" Raphael stared, but even as the words left him, he felt something shift in his stomach. An image of the little boy, sitting on the cot, paging through the books, flashed through his mind. He'd looked so happy, so content. As if he _belonged._

"We can't discuss it now, Raph. We've got a job to do," said Don grimly, but Raphael saw the worry, grief and rage flash in his younger brother's brown eyes, the same emotions that were churning in his own chest.

"Yer right, Don. We got a kid to save," he said. He reached out, grasping Don's shoulder. Donatello looked up, startled. He studied Raph for a moment, then nodded.

"Let's go."


	68. Chapter 67 Pledge

**Chapter 67 ~**_**Pledge~**_

Lucille shifted, uneasy, on the armchair, watching her sister cuddle her granddaughter on her lap.

"Gamma!" The tot squealed. She turned, pointing a green finger toward Lucille. "_Oba-san_! Lu-ci."

"Aren't you a clever one?" Janey smiled as Skylar reached out, grasping the collar of her shirt and tugging to pull herself up.

Skylar grinned. "Gamma." She reached out, patting Janey's face.

Lucille saw tears fill Janey's eyes as she rubbed her fingers along the baby's arm.

"This is so strange, Lucille," she said softly. "But her eyes… She reminds me so much of Austin when she was small."

"She's certainly lively," said Lucille with a smile. "I think in that way she takes after Michelangelo. Splinter tells me he was a handful as a child."

"I can imagine." Janey's smile was strained. "He's certainly… athletic."

"They're amazing, Janey," said Luci, thinking of her impromptu trip up the side of a building, courtesy of Michelangelo. "I wish you could meet the others."

Janey shook her head. "Knowing that Austin is happy is enough for me, Luci. It's all I've ever wanted."

Skylar plopped down on Janey's lap, looking expectantly around the room. "_Haha?"_

"Your mommy and daddy have gone to dispose of those awful men, Skylar-chan," said Janey gently. She glanced at Lucille, uneasy. "What will they do with them, Lucille?"

"They asked me to suggest someplace somewhat secluded. Austin said they'd just leave them. They're fighters, Janey, but not killers," said Luci.

Janey looked uncertain and Luci shook her head. "Janey, I… I didn't want to tell you; I didn't want you to worry, but, well… while we were in the city, Raphael was walking me back to the hotel, and we were ambushed."

"Oh no!" Janey sat up straight. Skylar jerked in her arms, startled, and began to whimper.

"I'm quite all right, as you can see, Janey," said Lucille quickly. "In part because of Raphael. He fought… It was like nothing I've ever seen, but he was badly outnumbered. He could have run, Janey, but he stayed, partly to defend me."

"How did you escape?" asked Janey. She'd gone quite pale.

"His brothers came. Leonardo, Donatello, and Michelangelo. They fought the men back, and as soon as they were able, made their escape. Michelangelo literally carried me away." Lucille chuckled at the memory.

"Before we escaped, I saw the fighting. They could have killed their attackers. It certainly would've been justified, in defense of their own… _our_ lives, but they were holding back. I asked Splinter about it. He told me he's taught the boys that a life, once taken, can't be returned. They follow the old ways, Janey, the code of Bushido."

"Honor." Janey swallowed hard, nodding. "I see."

Skylar chose that moment to let out a rising wail. "_Haha!"_

"Oh dear." Janey bounced the baby gently on her knee. "Skylar, your mamma will come back soon, darling. Please don't cry." She patted the Turtle's shell, but Skylar was having none of it. She squirmed, pushing at Janey's hands.

"_Haha! Haha!"_

"It seems she's anxious. She's not used to being away from Austin very long at a time," said Luci. She saw the strain in her sister's expression. "I'll just get Splinter. I'm sure he'll know what to do."

"Perhaps that would be best," murmured Janey as a two-toed foot lashed out, narrowly missing her arm.

Lucille hurried out to the dining room, where Splinter was waiting next to the door leading to the garage. He appeared calm, but the way he stood, his ears swiveled forward, his whiskers not so much as twitching, Lucille knew he was listening hard for the children's return.

"Splinter?"

He whirled, and she saw his dark eyes flash dangerously for an instant before he relaxed. He straightened and gave her a brief bow.

"Lucille-san."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you," said Lucille. "I wondered if they'd returned yet. Skylar's getting… anxious. I think she wants her mother."

"It is nearly time for Skylar-chan's bottle," said Splinter.

"Janey's getting tired," said Lucille quietly.

Splinter nodded. "I will come."

"Thank you." Luci hesitated long enough to see that he was following, before starting inside. She'd gotten used to the Rat's habitual reserve, but something about the way he avoided looking at her, and the uneasiness that seemed to pervade the atmosphere when she spoke to him seemed off.

"Are you all right, Splinter?" asked Lucille.

"Yes, Lucille-san," he answered.

_I suppose he's worried about Michelangelo and Austin, and probably uneasy here alone with Janey and I. This visit hasn't exactly gone as well as I had hoped. _

She moved on into the living room. Janey was sitting on the couch, doing her best to contain the howling, squirming Turtle tot on her lap. She bounced her gently, but still Skylar wailed.

"_Haha! Haha!"_ she cried. She turned as Lucille and Splinter came into the room, her hazel eyes going wide when she saw her grandfather. "_Ojiichan!"_ Skylar struggled harder against her grandmother's grip, stretching toward Splinter.

Splinter approached Janey slowly, making no sudden movements. Lucille watched, tense, afraid her sister might do or say something to offend the Rat, but Janey only watched him warily. She flinched slightly when Splinter's fingers brushed her hand, but didn't pull away.

He gathered the baby into his arms.

"_Doomo arigato_."

Skylar reached out, grasping the ruff of fur at Splinter's collar and snuggling her face against his shoulder. Splinter rubbed gentle circles against the back of her neck. Skylar burrowed deeper against his shoulder, but her hitching sobs slowed.

"You're so good with her." Janey sat back against the cushions.

"I have had a good deal of practice," he answered with a faint smile. "I raised four sons, Ms. Abramson."

"Please, call me Janey," she replied.

Splinter nodded. "I am honored."

"I'll just fix her a bottle," said Lucille. _Perhaps a few minutes alone will help Janey get used to him._

She headed into the kitchen, finding one of the bottles Austin kept prepared for the baby in the refrigerator and putting a pan of water on the stove to heat. She didn't linger long, only taking enough time to be sure the milk was at the proper temperature, before returning to the living room.

Splinter had taken a seat in one of the armchairs, cradling Skylar against his shoulder. Janey sat, watching him with more curiosity than fear.

"Lucille says you are from Japan?"

"Yes, Janey-san," he replied politely. "I came to this country with my master, Hamato Yoshi."

"Before the… change." She nodded, drawing a deep, shaky breath.

"_Hai,_ yes."

Lucille handed Splinter the bottle before sinking into the cushions beside her sister. She laughed at the way Skylar grabbed at the bottle, eagerly stuffing the nipple into her mouth and sucking greedily. The baby grinned up at Splinter, obviously content.

"I think, Luci, I'd like to lie down," said Janey quietly. "Please excuse me, Splinter."

"I hope you rest well, Janey-san," he answered gravely.

Janey smiled, giving him a polite little bow before turning to go.

"I'll be right back, Splinter," murmured Lucille.

He nodded, focused on adjusting Skylar back to his shoulder and patting her shell firmly.

Luci put a supportive arm around Janey's waist as she made her way into the bedroom. Janey sat down carefully on the bed, and lay back with a sigh.

"Luci… when is Thanksgiving?"

Lucille stopped fussing with the blanket. "You know… I think it's in a few days. I hadn't even considered…"

"I'd like to have Thanksgiving, Luci, while they're here. With Austin. And her family."

"I'm sure they'd enjoy that very much," said Lucille quietly.

"Do you think they'll mind? Being so far from home…" Janey's words were beginning to slur.

"I don't know, Janey. I'll talk to Austin."

"I'd like to… to have them stay… To talk to him again. I wasn't as afraid this time, Luci."

"I know, Janey dear."

"Honor… I can hardly believe it. Yet, to hear him speak…" Janey smiled faintly.

"He's amazing, Janey. I'm so glad you're getting a chance to get to know him," said Lucille, tucking the blanket gently around her sister.

"I am too, Luci. I love you."

"I love you too, Janey-the-pain."

Lucille was rewarded by her sister's faint smile as she faded to sleep. She slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

Outside, she paused for a moment to blink back the hot tears that sprang to her eyes.

_She's sleeping more, getting tired more easily. The doctor warned us this would happen, but I didn't think it would be so soon. Oh, Janey. All this stress can't be good for you. Thanksgiving… And Christmas is in just a few weeks. I hope you can hold on, dear Janey. _

She drew a deep breath, letting it out slowly, before making her way back out to the living area. Splinter sat where she'd left him, with Skylar cradled on his shoulder. He was humming softly, rubbing gentle circles on her shell.

"She is asleep," he said quietly.

Lucille smiled. "Yes. Janey, too." The tears brimmed in her eyes again, but she blinked them away. "She… doesn't have much time left."

Splinter looked directly at her for the first time since the Foot attack. "I am sorry for your grief, Lucille-san."

"Thank you, Splinter." Luci sat down on the couch. "I'm sorry things have been so… complicated."

"There is no need for apology, Lucille-san," said Splinter, but she caught a hint of sadness in his voice. "Please, excuse me." He stood, careful not to wake the baby.

"Will you lay her down?"

"Yes."

"And… will you come back, and sit with me?" asked Lucille, keeping her tone light with an effort.

He considered for a moment. "I will."

"Thank you."

Splinter disappeared down the hall toward the guest room. Lucille leaned forward, picking up her pad of paper off the coffee table where she'd laid it down. She opened the page to her flower painting and brushed her fingers over the image.

_I was so _happy_ while he was teaching me. Will I ever feel that way again? It seems that when Janey is gone, I will never smile again. _

The outer door opening and closing again snapped her out of her thoughts. In an instant, Luci was on her feet, torn between dashing to Janey's room to defend her sister or to the guest room where the baby slept.

"Splinter? Aunt Luci?" Austin came into the room.

"Austin! Oh, you gave me a scare." Lucille relaxed, though she still held the pad of paper to her chest like a shield.

Splinter appeared like a ghost from the hallway. "Austin. Your mission is complete?"

"_Hai,_ Sensei."

"Yep, we dumped 'em off, Sensei," said Michelangelo, grinning as he came into the room behind his wife. "You shoulda seen it. We stacked 'em up like cordwood."

Lucille chuckled in spite of herself, but then she sobered. "You're sure they won't come back?"

Austin shook her head. "There's no way to know for sure, Aunt Luci."

"We'll handle 'em," said Michelangelo, his smile disappearing into serious determination. "Don't worry."

"I'm not worried," said Lucille quickly.

"Aunt Luci, have you considered…" Austin hesitated. "I mean, Mikey and I were talking, on the way back… Maybe it'd be better if we took Mother back to the City. We could take you both to the Lair, where we can protect her."

Lucille stared at her niece. "Oh… I don't know, dear." She glanced toward Splinter. He was watching her, his expression unreadable. "We just got her home, got her settled… Your friend Casey and that nice girl, Angel, went to so much trouble…" She floundered, trailing off. Austin's expression hardened.

"You mean Mother wouldn't want to go."

"I don't know, Austin, dear. She's been so ill, and this is her home." Luci hugged the sketchbook to her chest. "She wants you to stay, to have Thanksgiving here with us…"

"But we could _protect_ her," said Austin. "Aunt Luci, they could come back, with reinforcements. This house isn't secure…"

"Austin, please, try to understand. I just don't think Janey would be comfortable…"

"With what, Aunt Luci? With celebrating a holiday in my home? With my _family?_"

"Austin."

Splinter's calm tone cut through the tension, and Austin paused, glancing at her father-in-law. He said something soft in Japanese. Austin stared for an instant, then gave him a short bow.

"_Hai, _Sensei.I… I'm going to check on Skylar," she said stiffly. "Come on, Mike."

"Ok, Babe." Michelangelo gave Luci a little wave before following his wife down the hall.

_There goes a very brave young man,_ thought Luci with a mixture of amusement and regret.

"Austin-chan cares for her mother's safety," said Splinter quietly into the silence. Lucille looked at him. He was watching her again with that unreadable expression.

"Yes." She forced a smile, and moved to the couch, sitting down once more.

"Do you fear Janey-san will be… uncomfortable, in Austin's home?" asked Splinter.

Lucille hesitated, meeting his eyes. "It's not that, honestly, Splinter," she said. "Quite the opposite." She leaned forward, laying the pad of paper on the table. "But Splinter… When you learned of the partnership your enemies had formed against your family, I tried to talk Austin into coming here, leaving the City, so she'd be safe. She told me then that your family has faced danger before, and that you don't run away."

His dark-eyed gaze never left her face.

"This is our home, Janey's and mine. We don't run, either," she said quietly.

Splinter nodded. "I understand," he said. He sat for a long moment, staring off into space, seemingly lost in thought.

"Splinter?"

"I am sorry, Lucille-san," he said quietly. He stood and came over to her slowly, hesitant.

Luci reached out instinctively, taking his hand.

"Splinter? What is it?"

He gave her a long, searching look. "Lucille-san." Something in the way he said her name drew a lump to her throat. Splinter shook his head. "In times of grief, it is possible to form… feelings… attachments, which do not survive the process of healing, of rebuilding."

"I suppose," said Lucille slowly, confused.

"It would be… dishonorable of me, Lucille-san, to take advantage of your time of grief," said Splinter. "For a moment, I believed… Forgive me, Lucille-san." His gaze was troubled. He gently disengaged one hand from her grasp and reached into the pocket of his robe. Laying his fist in her palm, he opened his fingers, and a light weight landed in her palm. "Please forgive a foolish old Rat."

He bowed his head and stepped back.

Lucille looked down, stunned. In her hand lay the necklace she'd given to Splinter that night in the park.

"I… I don't understand," she said. Her hand trembled, making the golden charm flicker with light.

Splinter avoided her gaze. "I am sorry, Lucille-san. I do not wish you to feel… bound."

"Splinter, is this… is this because of Janey? Because she was… afraid of you, at first?" asked Luci. She bit the inside of her lip to stop it from quivering. _I am _not_ going to cry like some scorned schoolgirl._

"No, Lucille-san," said Splinter, shaking his head. "I do not wish to… to burden you, during this time…"

"You are not a burden to me, Splinter," she replied.

"Your… friendship has brought joy to me, Lucille-san, but I fear in time…"

Lucille reached out, catching his hand.

Splinter stood very still, looking up, searching her face.

"When I gave this to you," she said carefully, laying the necklace into his palm once more. "I _meant_ it. I still do. If… if you… don't feel the same way, I'll… understand, but please, Splinter, don't expect me to take it back."

"Are you certain, Lucille-san, that this is the right choice?" he asked.

Luci shook her head, but smiled. "Sometimes there is no right choice," she said softly. "There are only paths in life, which lead us in new directions on our journey."

Splinter's whiskers twitched, and for a moment, she was afraid he was offended. He stood for a long moment, silent, studying her face, before he nodded, his fingers closing over the necklace once more.

"_Gomen nasai,_ Lucille-san. I am afraid I… misjudged you."

"You're not the only one who believes in honor, Splinter."


	69. Chapter 68 Death Comes to us All

**Chapter 68 ~_Death Comes to us All_~**

Donatello's body moved as if on its own power, as his mind went over the probabilities.

"Don!" Leo's voice cut through his haze, just in time for Donatello to hit the brakes and avoid running a red light. A New York City taxi's horn blared obnoxiously at them as it flew through the intersection. Donatello's finger twitched toward the small button that would release a well-placed missile, and he heard Leonardo chuckle.

"Donny…"

Donatello shook his head. "We should catch him unaware, Leo," he said. "Subdue him quickly. We don't want to risk anyone getting hurt."

"Don't worry, Genius," growled Raphael from behind him. "Austin's father's da only one who oughta be worried about gettin' hurt."

"We don't _want_ to hurt him, Raph," responded Donatello sharply, glaring at his brother in the rear-view mirror. "He's got to be able to answer questions. Otherwise we might blow our only chance at finding Isamu!"

Raphael subsided, grumbling. "All right," he drawled. "But if dat guy tries anyt'in', I ain't guaranteein' I won't take him down."

"Take it easy, Raph," interjected Leo. "Remember, this is a fact-finding mission. Don's right, we need Rin able to answer questions."

"Whatevah."

Donatello barely suppressed an eye-roll. He was itching as badly as his brother to get a piece of the man who'd caused their sister-in-law so much pain and worry, but right now his first concern was Isamu.

_I'm coming for you, Buddy,_ he thought, allowing the rage to rise up, burning away the grief and fear. _Don't you worry. They won't get away with this. I'm going to get you back._

He turned down a street two blocks from Rin's apartment complex, easing the Battleshell into a secluded alley.

"Is it dark enough out?" Leonardo eyed the window warily.

"It is if we take to the roofs," said Don. "Let's go."

"All right. Just be careful." Leo's gaze flicked from one brother to the other. "Remember, we're going in for information. We've got to be subtle…"

Donatello didn't hear the last of his remark. He was busy scaling the fire escape. He took off through the gathering dusk as soon as his feet hit the roof, confident his brothers were close behind him. It felt good, felt _right_. Success was within their grasp. Isamu would be safe before the sun rose. He wouldn't consider any other possibility.

At the ledge of the roof across from Rin's building, Donatello hesitated, waiting for the others to catch up.

"What's the plan, Fearless?" demanded Raphael, crouching like a gargoyle on the ledge, his sai firmly in his hands. He glared across the alley at the building.

"We get inside, find him, subdue him. _Subdue,_ Raph," said Leo, but his gaze flickered toward Donatello.

"Yeah, we got it. All right. Let's go." Raphael took two steps back and made the leap to Rin's roof.

"Typical," muttered Leonardo. "Come on, Donny. We'd better go before he gets into trouble."

"Ok, Leo," said Don tightly.

Within five minutes they'd made their way inside. Raphael slipped down the side hall, his sai drawn. Leonardo had split off to check the bedrooms while Don headed toward Rin's office.

The murmur of voices from down the hall made Don pause for only a moment. He moved cautiously closer, taking care to be absolutely silent.

"Do you truly expect me to believe Austin-chan is not in her right senses? What foolish trick is this, Rin?"

The voice was unfamiliar. Don shifted until he could peer through the partly-open door without being seen. An elderly Japanese man was standing beside Rin's desk. His back was to Donatello, but Don could see the fury in the set of his shoulders.

_Crap. We'll have to wait until he leaves to confront Rin._

"Father, please, listen to me. I only want to take _care_ of Austin. She's not thinking clearly. She opposed my effort to provide Janey with better treatment, and I'm afraid her son might need protection…"

"Austin… Austin has a _son_?" The man stepped back as if he'd taken a physical blow.

Don scowled. _Son? What exactly are you up to, Rin?_

"It is true, Miyomoto-san."

Donatello reached automatically for his bo at the sound of the familiar, oily voice of Karai's second-in-command.

"I have seen the child for myself. Even now my… associates are retrieving your granddaughter. Rin-san has asked that she be returned to him, so that she might receive proper care…"

"Who is this man?" demanded the man. He turned so that Donatello could see his profile, glaring at someone Don couldn't see, presumably Masaru. He was a handsome man, with a stubborn set to his mouth. "What has he to do with my granddaughter?"

_Of course. Mr. Miyomoto. Austin's grandfather._

"He is helping me, Father. His men will bring Austin back here, so I can take care of her and the boy. You'll see. She'll come home and you'll be able to see for yourself…"

"I will hear no more of this. You will _never_ receive money from me, Rin." The man turned back to his son. "You must not bother Austin-chan. You will leave her alone, or you will never see so much as a _penny_ from my estate, do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"_Hai,_ Father." Rin's voice was subdued, boiling with resentment.

"Miyomoto-san," said Masaru softly. "Please consider the boy's future. Your son's concern is for his daughter."

Rin nodded. "Surely you must see that I am only trying to be sure my grandson receives proper care and education…"

"Enough. I will hear no more." Miyomoto turned, starting for the door.

"Father, please…" Rin stood, holding out his hands.

Miyomoto stopped, turning back. "I have heard enough, _musuko._" His tone was icy. "This man… He gestured toward Masaru. "You will dissolve your partnership with him. _I_ will speak with Austin-chan…" He turned to glare once more at Masaru, and Don saw his eyes go wide with shock. "No!" He threw himself forward, knocking Rin to the floor. There was a strangled cry.

Donatello darted into the room, yanking his bo from the holder. He heard footsteps coming down the hall as he burst through the door. Masaru was taken completely by surprise. Don's bo lashed out, knocking the shuriken from his hand before he could throw it. Don struck again as he reached for the short sword sheathed at his side. The man fell to the floor, dazed. Donatello spun to face Rin.

At first, he didn't see the man. He approached the desk cautiously. A muffled sound had him lifting his staff, but he needn't have bothered.

Rin was moving to his knees, cradling the older man's head in his lap.

"Father…" Tears streamed down his face as he pressed a hand to Miyomoto's neck, but even from where he stood, Don could see it was no use. The man was bleeding far too profusely. Masaru's shuriken was embedded in the wall, its deadly point glimmering red with blood, its job finished.

"Father, I…"

"My… son." Miyomoto reached up, grasping Rin's hand.

"Father… I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Don watched as the light went out of the man's eyes and his grasp went weak and limp. Still, Rin didn't look up or move. He hunched over his father, his shoulders shaking with sobs.

"Miyomoto-san!"

Donatello whirled, backing further into the room in shock, adrenaline pouring into his system in a flood.

"Karai!"

Green eyes flicked to the purple-banded Turtle, going narrow with shock and fury, but her gaze returned almost at once to the men.

"What happened here?" She moved further into the room. "How did this happen?"

"Your man. Masaru." Rin's tone was dull, defeated. "He… He meant it for me." He shuddered, his shoulders shaking with fresh sobs. "He meant it for me, but Father…"

"Masaru?" Karai's glare landed on Donatello.

He pointed. "There. I knocked him out, but he's alive."

"Don!"

"Donny!"

Leonardo and Raphael rushed into the room, weapons drawn.

"Karai!" Leo's swords were instantly pointed toward the woman.

"Donny, what da shell happened in 'ere?" demanded Raphael, scowling.

Karai turned toward the door, making a gesture. Only then did Don see the Elite standing there, a naginata firmly in his hands, hatred burning in his eyes. Don had half-moved to defend Raphael, who was standing with his back to the door, when Karai whirled, holding up her hand.

"Stop!"

Don paused, noting that the Elite soldier hadn't moved. Everyone froze, staring at the woman. In the corner, Masaru groaned, shifting.

"Leonardo." Karai looked to the blue-banded Turtle. "It appears Masaru-san has caused your family some… inconvenience. I assure you, he was not following my orders." She nodded toward Rin. "Miyomoto-san was a respected man. He was on several charitable committees with my father."

Leo bristled at the mention of Saki, and Raphael snorted quietly, but Karai ignored them.

"Rin Abramson-san, I am sorry for your loss," said Karai in the same dignified, regal tone.

"He… He meant it for me. It wasn't supposed to be like this. He said he'd get Austin back… He sent the Foot after Janey… I've been such a fool." Rin turned to face Karai for a moment, but his eyes were glazed, unseeing. "I should never have made a bargain. Never…"

Karai nodded to the Elite. "Take him."

Donatello tensed. He saw Leonardo move to put himself between the Elite and Rin Abramson, instinctively protective.

The tall soldier moved into the room cautiously, eying the Turtles, but ignored the drawn weapons and wary stances. He went to Masaru and hauled him unceremoniously to his feet.

"Masaru will not cause you further trouble," said Karai. Don saw a flash of real regret in her eyes as she gazed at the man on the floor. "I will see that your family is amply provided for, Rin-san."

Rin didn't seem to hear her. He cradled his father's head in his lap, one hand still pressed to his neck as if he could stop the blood that was no longer flowing.

"And the soldiers who attacked my sister-in-law's family?" Leonardo's dark eyes were narrow behind his mask. "Will you call them off?"

"I… apologize, Leonardo-san," said Karai. "It will be done."

Don saw her hand twitch, and rushed forward.

"Wait!"

Karai paused. The smoke pellet was between her fingers, ready to be deployed. She stared at Donatello as if he'd lost his mind.

"What about the boy?" he demanded.

Masaru was stirring, beginning to struggle in the Elite's iron grip.

Don stepped closer, holding out his bo threateningly. "What have you done with him?"

"Boy?" Karai's eyebrows disappeared under her sharp-cut bangs.

"He's kidnapped a human boy. He meant to use him, to manipulate Miyomoto," said Leonardo quickly. "We just want the boy back alive, Karai."

"I see."

Karai moved so fast, all Don saw was a black blur. A _slap _rang out, and Masaru's head snapped back.

"Where is the boy?" Her growl sent chills chasing each other up and down Don's spine.

Masaru shook his head, a slow, evil smile crawling across his face. Blood trickled from his lip.

"The boy," he whispered hoarsely. His black eyes slid toward Donatello. "Is dead. I cut his pitiful throat myself, finished the job his mother was too weak to complete. You will never find… so much as a body."

"You _lie!" _Don surged forward, his only thought to tear the man apart, but strong arms wrapped around his plastron, dragging him back.

"Donny… no!"

"Take it easy, Genius!"

Don struggled against his brothers, but they held him firmly.

"Let me go! He's lying!"

Karai stepped between the Turtles and the man, taking a defensive stance.

"Donatello-san!"

If a look could kill, Karai would've been annihilated where she stood.

"Donatello-san," she said again. "I will see to it that he is properly punished. The child's blood, and that of Miyomoto-san, will be paid for." Her green eyes wavered, and Don realized with absolute shock that tears were sliding down her cheeks. Still, she met his look steadily. "I am sorry, Donatello-san."

"He's lying," said Don again, with less force, glaring at the smirking Masaru.

Karai bowed her head. This time, when she dropped the pellets, no one tried to stop her. Leonardo opened a window to clear the smoke. Only then did Rin move, looking up as the breeze blew cold air into the room. He blinked, but went immediately back to his vigil over his father's body.

"Donny…" Raphael put his hand on his brother's shoulder.

"He was lying," said Donatello, shrugging off his brother's hand.

"Don…" Leonardo turned.

"He was _lying_, Leo." Don didn't meet his brother's eyes. He couldn't bear to see the sympathy there. _He was lying. He had to be..._

"Donny, we've… we've got to get out of here," said Leonardo quietly. "We have to get away from here, and call 911 for Mr. Abramson."

Rin didn't so much as twitch. He might as well have been a statue, for all the attention he paid the Turtles.

"Come on, Genius," said Raph.

Donatello didn't move, until Raphael put his hand back on his shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze.

"Donny. Gettin' yerself caught ain't gonna help da kid now. Come on."

Raph's voice was heavy, but firm.

Don nodded slowly. "We… we've got to get back to the Lair," he said quietly. "Bev… Bev'll want… want to know."

The sob rose up so fast and hard, it overcame him before he could stop it, doubling him over with the pain and rage.

"Come on, Bro." Leonardo's arm came around his shell, guiding him toward the hall. Donatello didn't bother wiping at the tears that streamed through his mask and down his cheeks.

_I'm so sorry, Isamu…_


	70. Chapter 69 Retreat

**Chapter 69 ~**_**Retreat~**_

Michelangelo moved, uncomfortable, on the mattress. The bed _creaked_ loudly and he had to suppress a groan. Austin shifted next to him, snuggling closer.

"What is it?" she murmured, half-asleep.

"Nothing, Babe. Everything's fine." He smoothed a hand over her silky brown hair, brushing it back from her face.

"Mmmm."

To Mike's relief, Skylar's breathing remained unchanged in the portable playpen next to the bed.

_Shell, if I wake her up this time of night, she'll want to get up and play. Not that I'd mind the company, but I doubt I could keep her quiet enough. She'd wake the whole house._ He shifted again with a sigh. _I didn't think I'd miss my own bed this much. My own _family._ Man… Austin's mom sure isn't anything like her sister. I guess she's ok with us now, but I don't think she'll ever see Splinter and me as anything but mutants. Sometimes I forget how awesome Austin is, how lucky we are. _

He smiled in the dark, shifting almost unconsciously to gather her warm body protectively closer to his plastron.

Austin wriggled against him, moving one leg to hook her warm knee over his leg. He felt her smile against his collarbone.

"What is it, Mike? You're so restless tonight," she whispered.

"Sorry, Babe. I didn't mean to wake you up."

"Well, I'm awake now," she answered, brushing her cheek against his shoulder. "Care to tell me why?"

Mikey smiled in spite of himself. "Just homesick, I guess."

"I'm sorry, _itoshi_," whispered Austin. "I've dragged us all into a mess, haven't I?"

"No, you haven't," responded Mike firmly. "It isn't your fault the Foot came after your Mom."

"No, but it's my fault we're here."

"Austin." He cupped his hand against her cheek. "I… I don't know much about this stuff. I mean, I've only ever had Splinter, ya know? And my brothers of course." He smiled. "But she's your _mom_. She's family. You're doing the right thing."

"I just can't help but feel like I'm betraying you," said Austin softly. "It doesn't feel right, giving her my loyalty, when _you're_ my family. You and Skylar."

"Austin, loving your mom doesn't mean you love me an' Sky any less," said Michelangelo gently.

"The way she acted around Splinter…"

"She's trying now."

"I know, but still. I… I wanted to sink into the floor, Mikey, I really did, when she practically ran out of the room that way. I've never been so embarrassed. Splinter's… well, he's _Splinter_. How can she not see him?"

"Splinter always told us we can't be shamed by others' actions," he said softly. "Austin, this is why we live the way we do, you know? This is why we have to be secret. It's not just the government agencies wantin' to dissect us an' stuff. It's people. Most people don't see _us_." Mike shook his head. "I'm amazed every day when I wake up next to you. How can someone like you be with… well, with someone like me?"

"Oh Mikey." Austin shifted even closer, pressing herself against him. She tipped her head back to peer at him through the darkness. "I ask myself the same question about _you._"

"Aw, babe." Mike leaned in to kiss her, the familiar tingling warmth surging through him.

Austin returned the kiss, smiling against his mouth. She felt slow, languorous and sleepy, warm and sweet and like everything good in his life cradled in his arms. Michelangelo's breath caught as her hand cupped the back of his neck, drawing him deeper, inviting him closer.

"Austin," he breathed, breaking off the kiss. "You keep that up and I might forget we're in your mother's house."

Her giggle was muffled against his neck. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he whispered, stroking her cheek. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Her fingers moved against his bridge, teasing, and he squirmed.

"No fair!" he hissed, grinning as he wrapped an arm around her, stretching to reach her ribs.

Austin giggled, wriggling to escape, but an echoing _thud_ made them both freeze, all humor gone. Mikey strained to listen, even as Austin shifted silently over, removing her weight from his plastron.

"It came from the living room," she whispered, barely audible.

"I'll check it out," replied Mike. He got to his feet, mindful of the creaky springs, and ghosted to the doorway, snagging his 'chucks off the nightstand. He peered out of the guest room door, but could see nothing in the thick, black darkness that lay heavy on the hall. A slight movement to his right had him crouching.

"Michelangelo."

Splinter spoke so softly Mike had to strain to hear him.

"_Hai_," he replied in the same tone.

Together, without speaking again, they moved down the hall toward the main living area.

"Hi-_yah!_" Splinter's battle cry rang out, and in an instant, Michelangelo was fighting what seemed to be an octopus of arms and legs flying at him out of the darkness. He blocked three successive blows by instinct alone before a fist connected with his plastron.

Mike let his outward breath cushion the blow, while at the same time striking out at the source, his nunchuck connecting with a satisfyingly solid _thud_. He followed through with a round-house kick which knocked another attacker back. Michelangelo winced as something _crashed_ with the sound of splintering wood.

An instant later, the world turned blindingly white.

"Splinter? Michelangelo? What's going… Oh!" Luci's voice went high with fear.

"Lucille-san!"

Michelangelo blinked and the room came into focus in time for him to see his father spin through the air, taking out three Foot soldiers in quick succession before they could reach the woman who stood in the doorway, one hand covering her mouth, her eyes round with shock.

Splinter landed lightly in front of her, blocking the still-standing Foot soldiers who converged on the cowering woman. Michelangelo looked around, his heart sinking. Although several black-clad fighters lay sprawled across the floor, the room was crowded with enemy soldiers, their eyepieces glittering malevolently.

"Dudes, what's this? Twenty to two? How is that fair odds?" Mikey took a defensive crouch, grinning at the Foot closest to him. They watched him warily, seeming to size him up, before surging forward.

The first two he met with a dragon punch and a swift split-kick, landing lightly in time to deliver a round-house strike from his nunchuck. While he was busy dealing with three attackers, two more leapt into the fray. One of them managed to land a punch that snapped his head around.

"Uncool, Dude." He returned with a sweep that the ninja avoided by leaping aside. He was quickly replaced by one of his comrades who rushed Michelangelo, intent on tackling him. Mikey almost laughed as he dodged aside, but the shuriken that whistled past his mask was no joke.

The Foot seemed intent on fighting barehanded. There wasn't much room for swinging unwieldy weapons about in the crowded space, but Mike made his nunchucks felt as often as he could.

A strangled cry from the guest bedroom had him turning and frankly sprinting from the fight, intent on nothing else but defending Austin and their daughter. He skidded to a halt just outside the door. All the air and warmth seemed to have been sucked out of the house as he stared at the horror in front of him.

A Foot soldier had Austin backed up against the side of the playpen, a short sword pointed directly at her throat. She glared defiantly at her enemy, refusing to back down.

"You will come with us, or the old women will die," hissed the soldier.

"Go to hell!" she snapped.

Mikey saw her weight shift, saw her intention, and surged forward with a cry, but it was far too late to stop her. Austin lashed out, her bare foot connecting solidly with the Foot ninja's solar plexus, driving him back, away from her and Skylar, who was sitting up, rubbing her eyes, whimpering.

In a flash, Austin had the baby in her arms and was darting toward the window, but she stopped as if she'd hit a brick wall, and backpedaled hastily.

Michelangelo dealt the man who'd been threatening her a quick blow, knocking him out before rushing to Austin's side. Another black-clad soldier was climbing in through the window, and beyond him, Michelangelo could see more pressing forward, anxious for their chance to enter the already-crowded space as two more Foot squeezed through the bedroom door.

Instinctively, he pulled Austin behind him, backing away from the window.

"Mike, we've got to get Skylar out of here."

He could hear her trying desperately to stay calm, in spite of the panic in her voice.

"Don't you worry, Babe. They ain't gonna _touch_ my girls," he growled.

The Foot ninja closest laughed, a cold, dry sound.

"To the contrary, _Turtle_, we will relieve you of your _girls._ Directly after we relieve you of your _life._" He started forward, but stopped, jerking slightly. He looked around as if confused, but held up his hand. Movement in the room stopped. The Foot froze in place. The speaker put his hand to his ear and cocked his head, as if he was listening.

"But mistress, I… Yes, Mistress Karai."

He turned to his comrades. "Foot ninja, vanish."

Within seconds, the room was empty. The only evidence the Foot had been there was the cold air blowing snow through the open window, causing the sheer curtains to billow.

Slowly, as if in a dream, Michelangelo moved to the window, closing it and locking it firmly.

"Austin?" he turned to face his wife. "What the shell just happened?"

She was staring toward the window, her mouth an 'o' of shock.

"I… I'm not sure," she said slowly. "But I think… I think they… retreated."

"Michelangelo! Austin! Are you all right?"

"We're fine, Sensei." Michelangelo called out, rushing to the door to meet his father. Splinter's worried gaze flicked from Mike to Austin, who cradled a now-howling Skylar to her chest. "They just… gave up," Mike shook his head. "I guess facing the Battle Nexus Champion was just too much for them," he said, trying a weak joke.

"They have retreated," said Splinter quietly. "Come."

"Sure thing, Sensei."

Mike wrapped a protective arm around Austin's waist, and together they trailed behind Splinter out to the living room. Splinter went immediately to Lucille, who still stood beside the door leading to Janey's bedroom, white-faced and staring at the devastation.

"Are you all right, Lucille?" asked Splinter.

"I… I am, thanks to you." Luci straightened. "I looked in on Janey while you were checking on Mike and Austin. She's still sleeping. The pain medication she's on at night makes her sleep quite deeply."

"Good," Splinter nodded. "Then she was not disturbed."

"No." Lucille shook her head, but her shocked brown eyes stayed focused on the living area.

_Shell,_ thought Mikey. _Guess we kinda made a mess out here._

The main room had suffered more damage in the brief attack. The coffee table lay shattered, one leg broken off completely and the top cracked neatly in half. The couch was flipped onto its back in a most undignified fashion, and one armchair had been overturned. Michelangelo reached down, righting the couch, before setting the armchair back on its legs. Austin leaned down to pick up a throw pillow. When she straightened to put it back on the chair, Mike caught sight of a splash of red.

"Austin!"

"What?" The hand that wasn't wrapped firmly around Skylar strayed to her neck.

"You're bleeding," said Michelangelo.

"It's just a scratch."

"You're hurt, Austin?" asked Lucille, her voice wavering.

Michelangelo glanced over his shoulder at the woman. She looked grayish with shock, her eyes wide in her pale face.

"I'm fine, Aunt Luci. Really. It's just a scratch. I'll just get cleaned up." Austin forced a smile for Luci's sake, glancing at Mikey with something like guilt.

"Let me take Skylar, dear," suggested Lucille, visibly gathering her courage. "While Michelangelo helps you with that."

"All… all right," Austin consented reluctantly.

Skylar squirmed as she was handed over, but her arm went familiarly around Lucille's neck.

"_Oba-san?_" she whispered, patting Luci's cheek.

"Perhaps some tea," suggested Splinter quietly. He wrapped an arm around Lucille's waist, and the pair moved toward the kitchen.

"I'll fix up Austin, then I'll scout around outside and make sure they're really gone," said Michelangelo.

"Good." Splinter nodded his approval of the plan.

"_Ojii-chan_," murmured Skylar.

Mike wrapped his arms around Austin, drawing her in close. The tangy odors of sweat and fear mixed with her normal, sweet scent.

"It's ok, babe. They're gone. Everyone's ok."

"Why'd they back off?" she whispered, pressing close to his plastron.

"I don't know." Mikey shook his head. "But they did, and we're ok, and that's all that matters. Come on." He released her reluctantly. "Let me have a look at your neck."

"Ok."

Austin let him lead her into the bathroom, where he knelt in front of her and got her to tip her head back so he could see the cut that was still oozing blood. Mike's fists clenched when he saw the shallow cut the Foot's sword had left, but to his intense relief, Austin's assessment had been accurate. The wound was little more than a nick.

"He could've hurt you," he couldn't help but scold.

"But he didn't," Austin returned firmly. She met his eyes. "Mikey, I had to protect Skylar."

He nodded, fetching a washcloth from under the sink and wetting it. "I know, Babe. But don't you ever scare me like that again."

"I'll try not to."

Austin smiled as Michelangelo dabbed the blood away from the wound.

"I think… I think I get it now," he murmured, watching the way her throat moved when she swallowed. "About… why Splinter wanted us to stay, you know, to protect your mom."

"Oh?" She held still while he patted her skin dry.

"Yep." He nodded, examining the delicate skin before reaching for the box of bandaids. Mikey laid two out, overlapping, to make a larger bandage, before pressing them gently over the small cut.

"It ain't about your mom, Austin. It's something Splinter said once. 'All parents care for their children.' I think… it goes both ways, an' he knows if you left, if anything happened, you'd never be ok with it."

Austin went very still under his fingers and Mikey looked up to gauge her reaction. She was holding her head still so that he could fix the bandaid in place, but he saw a tear trickle down her cheek.

"I… I do love her," whispered Austin, swallowing hard. "I can't help it."

"I wouldn't want you to, Babe," said Mikey quietly. He reached up, cupping her cheek with his hand. "Hey. You remember you an' me, back at the beginning? You think if Raph hadn't come around about you… That I'd have been able to walk away from _him?_ She's your mom, Austin. I get it."

Austin met his gaze for a long moment, her brown eyes uncertain.

Suddenly, Michelangelo found himself wrapped up in a wild embrace. Austin pressed her mouth to his, kissing him fiercely. When she finally broke the kiss, he was breathless.

"I love you, Michelangelo Hamato," she whispered.

"Hey, Babe. I'm always gonna look out for you."


	71. Chapter 70 Retreival Mission

**A/N: I'm dedicating this chap to the tireless men and women who are EMT and Fire personnel everywhere, in honor of their service to their communities.**

**"_Call to me, and I will answer you, and show you great and mighty things, which you do not know_."  
Jeremiah 33:3**

**Fair warning to sensitive readers for Casey's language in this chap. I think it's justified, given the circumstances.  
**

* * *

**Chapter 70 ~_Retrieval Mission_~**

Leonardo dialed the three-digit number from the payphone, and waited impatiently for the dispatcher to pick up.

"911. What is your emergency?"

"There's been an… accident. A man is dead. Please send an ambulance right away. The dead man's son is with him. He's not injured but I'm afraid he may be going into shock." He gave the address, and hung the receiver gently in its cradle, cutting off the dispatcher's slightly frantic instructions to give his name and remain on the line with a near-silent _click_.

The job done, he slipped back into the alley where the Battleshell was parked, sliding behind the wheel. Raphael was sitting in the passenger seat. Leo glanced at his brother with slight surprise and annoyance. When he'd gone to make the call, Raph was sitting in the back with a silent Donatello, trying unsuccessfully to get their brother to talk to him. Raphael shrugged, glancing toward the back seat where Don sat staring into space.

_Rin's not the only one I'm afraid might go into shock,_ thought Leo.

"I'm gonna call Casey," said Raphael quietly. "Let 'im know what's goin' on."

"Good idea," Leonardo replied, forcing a calm tone. "He should probably… go home. Talk to April."

An image of Sierra swam into Leo's mind unbidden. Green eyes, laughter carrying through the dojo as a little boy cuddled into her lap.

"_Again, See-ra!"_

"_You're a good little airplane, Isamu."_

Leo closed his eyes against the sudden burning, and rested his forehead for a moment against the steering wheel.

Raphael's hand landed heavily on his shoulder, giving it a hard squeeze.

"C'me on, Fearless. We can't sit here all night," he said gruffly.

Leonardo nodded, drawing in a deep breath and gathering up the strength his brother offered. He sat up and shifted the Battleshell into drive while Raphael flipped his shell cell open. They eased smoothly out onto the deserted street, rolling away just as the sirens could be heard in the distance, racing to Rin's apartment to deal with the aftermath of tragedy.

_I don't envy those people,_ thought Leonardo. _Facing death and destruction each and every night, rushing to the aid of strangers, trying to help, to heal, dealing with all the emotion and shock and pain. How do they do it, time and time again? How do they pour that much of themselves into helping strangers? It's got to be more than just a job. _

He was shaken out of his reverie by Raph calling his name. By his brother's irritated tone, he'd tried to get his attention more than once.

"Sorry, Raph. What is it?" asked Leo.

"Casey's over on da other side of Central Park. He wants us ta pick 'im up."

Leonardo shook his head, annoyed, but turned right, toward the park. He glanced at Raphael.

"You didn't tell him, did you?"

"It ain't da kinda news ya can deliver over da phone, Leo," said Raphael grimly.

Leonardo nodded. It wasn't the kind of news he wanted to deliver at _all_.

_What am I going to say to Sierra? To Ann and Bev and Mike and Austin? To Sensei? _He swallowed hard against the lump that was threatening to close off his throat. _They… we… all got so attached to him. We promised to protect him. Promised Isamu, and promised _Donny._ I cost that boy his father, and I couldn't even protect his life._

He glanced in the rearview. Donatello hadn't moved. He sat staring, unfocused, his brown eyes hidden in the shadows of his mask.

"Donny?"

Even Leo's gentlest big-brother voice couldn't shake Don's reverie. Leo sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He turned right again, coasting the van down a narrow street that led to the Park's east side.

"There he is." Raph pointed.

Leo applied the brakes, sliding to a stop even Don would've been proud of, if Don were in any shape to notice his brother's driving.

The side door swung unceremoniously open, and Casey Jones hopped up into the van. "What took yous so long?" he growled, softening it with a grin. "I been waitin' out here a whole five minutes."

Casey sat down in the captain's chair next to Don's.

"I found a PD dat mighta seen somet'in. I was t'inkin mebbe we could go ovah by da docks an' have a little talk wit' Hun an' his goons…"

"That won't be necessary, Casey," said Leo heavily.

"What? Why not? What's goin' on, guys?" Casey looked around.

"It's… kinda a long story," said Raph. His voice was thick, choked.

Leo glanced at his brother, and wasn't surprised to see the red mask stained dark under his eyes.

"Uh, ok," said Casey slowly. "Uh, well, mebbe you guys could… drop me off at da apartment, den? I jus' wanna check in wit' April. She's leavin' in a few hours ta go ta dat convention t'ing Upstate. Ya know, takin' Donny's scanner thing to that invention fair. After dat, I'll go back out an' keep lookin'."

"You… won't need to do that, Casey. But thank you," said Leonardo, feeling as if a lead weight had settled into his chest.

Donatello's invention. He remembered now, his little brother's excitement, bubbling over, as he talked about some new piece of equipment that could be plugged into any computer to scan for viruses and other damage. Revolutionary, Donny'd said. Going to change the world.

April had stood beside him, beaming and nodding. _He's right, Leo. This scanner could mean big things to your family. _She'd been almost as excited as Don himself.

Leo glanced in the rear-view at Donatello, and wondered if the empty shell sitting in the seat would ever resemble the animated Turtle again.

_He's going to be ok,_ thought Leonardo fiercely. _Masaru is _not_ going to win, not going to destroy him. To destroy _us._ No matter what, we've got to stick together._ _We'll get through this… somehow._

"What's goin' on?" demanded Casey again. "What're ya not tellin' me? Donny?"

"Leave him alone," said Leo, more sharply than he'd intended.

"Why? What's up?" Casey prodded, looking from Leo to Raphael, scowling. "Guys, what's goin' _on_?"

"Da kid's dead," snapped Raphael.

"Raph…"

"What, Fearless? Denyin' it ain't gonna change not'in. Masaru said 'e killed 'im." Raphael's voice cracked and he turned away to glare out the window, the fury draining away as quickly as it'd risen up.

"What? Masaru… dat Foot guy? He said he…"

Casey's fist shot out, striking the metal door with a muffled _clang_.

Leo glanced over his shoulder, hoping the pain of the blow would shock Casey out of more destructive behavior. The man was sitting, hunched over, his elbows on his knees, cradling his bleeding hand in his lap.

_I hope he didn't break it,_ thought Leo wearily.

"_Damnit_," Casey yelled. He swore again, a string of curses that echoed in the enclosed space; rage pouring out in audible waves. Normally Leonardo would've rebuked him for his language, but he simply couldn't find it in himself to deny the man's outpouring.

The tirade ended on a muffled howl. Casey Jones, the muscular, macho tough-guy, was crying. His shoulders shook as he buried his face in his scarred hands, swearing again between gasping sobs.

"Damnit, Leo. I promised Ape…" The man shuddered, sniffing hard. He sat up, wiping angrily at his face. "I _promised _'er…"

Leonardo shook his head. He understood the man wasn't blaming them. His grief only echoed what Leo himself was thinking.

_I promised Sierra. And Ann. Told them it'd be ok. Promised we'd get him back. How am I going to tell them?_

"What're you doin', Genius?" asked Raphael suddenly.

"Looking for something."

Leonardo was so startled at how _normal_ Donatello's voice sounded, he pulled the van to the side of the road with a jerk and turned in the seat to look at him. Don had his duffle bag in his lap, and was digging methodically through the contents.

"I can see _dat_," answered Raph, exasperated. "What're ya lookin' _for?_"

"My scanner." Donatello looked up. "He was lying. Leo, don't you think you should start driving? We don't want to draw too much attention."

"…Ok, Donny. Whatever you say." Leonardo pulled the van away from the curb with a _bump_, exchanging worried glances with Raphael.

He came to an intersection and hesitated. "I guess I'll drop you off at home, ok, Casey?"

"Not yet, Leo," muttered Donny.

Leo looked over his shoulder. Don had one of his small gadgets in his hand.

"In fact, pull into this alley up ahead," continued Don without looking up. "I need a minute to get this downloaded."

"Ok, Don." Leonardo pulled into the narrow entry, just missing the corner of the building. _Shell, I hope I can back out of here again without destroying anything._

He slid the gear shift into Park and swiveled in his seat to see what his brother was doing. Don was watching the tiny screen, intent.

"Ok, Genius, spill. What's goin' on?" Raphael crossed his arms over his plastron, glaring, but Leo saw the faint spark of hope in his amber eyes.

Donatello had always been the genius of the group, the one who pulled solutions out of thin air when it seemed there was no other way out.

_Don't expect too much, Raph. He can't bring the boy back from the dead_, thought Leo.

Donatello glanced up, his expression grim. "I can't go home yet," he said. "I can't go and tell Bev…" he trailed off, and shook his head. "I have to at least _try_, Leo. I think Masaru was lying." He held up his hand to stall Leonardo's protest. "Think about it. Why would he kill the boy, if he planned on using him to help Rin get hold of Miyomoto's fortune?"

"Donny, he planned to kill Rin all along," reasoned Leo, fighting down the hope that rose up.

Don nodded. "I know, but I don't think he would've killed him the way he said, quickly. He would've wanted to take his time, to savor the victory…"

Raphael made a strangled noise. Leo ignored him.

"_Jesus, _Donny." Casey shook his head, looking sick.

"Ha!" Don shouted. "He was wearing it… Of all the crazy… I just hope that transmitter was intact… it's water resistant, but not really made to go through the wash…"

"Donny, what're you _talking _about?" asked Leonardo, his patience wearing thin as Don dove back into his duffle bag.

"The tracker. I just downloaded the video from our surveillance cameras to my PDA. The foster-mother was describing what he wore to bed last night… Remember when Ann and Sierra took Isamu to the park that day? I sewed a simple transmitter into the collar of his shirt, just in case."

"Ya mean ya had da kid tagged like a dog wit' a chip?" asked Casey Jones, incredulous.

Donatello nodded. "Something similar, but those chips are just stored data- they have to be read with a scanner. This is a _transmitter_. I can pick it up with my receiver. Leo, he was wearing the shirt when he disappeared. It was his favorite, remember?"

Leonardo nodded slowly. "The one with the purple and green stripes. Bev gave it to him."

"That's right. If that transmitter's still functional, we can find him."

Casey swore again, but Leonardo ignored him.

"Donny…"

"Leo, listen." Donatello looked up, determination showing clearly. "I know. I _know_ we might find…" he swallowed hard. "But if there's even a chance… I've got to try, Leo. I can't go home to Bev without _knowing_, without… without at least… He deserves a decent burial, Leo."

Leonardo nodded slowly. "You're right, Donny. It's the least we can do. We'll try."

_Don's hoping he could still be alive. He wants to find him… What if he's right? What if…_ Leo shook his head. _No. I can't let myself hope. _

"Wait a minute." Casey held up a hand. "Yer sayin' ya might jus' be goin' ta find da kid's…" He swallowed hard, looking sick. "I mean… Ya don't t'ink yer gonna find 'im alive, do ya?"

"Ya ain't gotta come, Casey," said Raphael quietly. "We can drop ya off at da apartment."

Casey nodded. "If… if ya don't mind. Why don'tcha just let me out here. I can walk."

"Casey, we appreciate all your help. Raph's right, we can drop you at the apartment," said Leonardo. _Can't hardly blame him for not wanting to ride along on this kind of retrieval mission._

Casey shook his head. "Nah. I can't slow ya down like dat. Jus' let me out. I'll walk. Jus'… call, ok? When… when ya… find somet'in out. So I can, ya know, know what ta say ta April. When I get home."

Leonardo nodded. _He doesn't want to go home without knowing, either._

"No problem, Casey. Thank you again for your help."

"Yeah, no problem Leo. See ya. An' guys? Uh… Good luck." Casey slipped out the side door, closing it far more quietly than his usual _slam_. He patted the side of the Battleshell as if it were a horse, before jogging off down the alley and disappearing into the night.

"Where to, Don?" Leo asked quietly.

"Head south. The signal's faint, but it's transmitting."

"All right."

The van started with a jerk, and Leo backed out of the alley.

"Crank the wheel a little to the right…" Don instructed, his eyes never leaving the small box he was holding. _Scraaaaaape_. "Or you'll hit the wall with the bumper."

"Nice drivin', Fearless," said Raphael, a faint ghost of his usual smirk touching his face for an instant before it disappeared again.

Leo shook his head. Their teasing banter was such a habit, it came out even in this grim situation. It felt surreal to Leonardo, as if the world were cracking apart under his feet, even as he guided the van down the deserted streets.

_They're hoping he's alive. Casey knew what we're likely to find, and he couldn't face it. I don't have the option of backing out. I've got to be ready to deal with this. I can't let Donny see the boy if he's… Raph, either. He doesn't need that image haunting him. Not with a baby on the way. He has enough reason to want to go postal on the Foot, to exact revenge. I can't give his anger any more ammunition. _

"Ok, if you take Fifth over toward Prospect, you should be able to cut through the alley," said Don. He trailed off, and swore. "Leo, I think I know where to go. It seems to be coming from the direction of the warehouse."

"The one we found the paper in?" Leonardo asked.

"Yeah. And it makes sense. Masaru seemed to be using it as a sort of base, remember? He'd feel safe there; he'd never expect anyone to go into the building. It's a perfect site."

"All right." Leonardo deliberately ignored his brother's choice of words.

_A perfect _dumping_ site. To abandon the body of a murdered little boy…_ He swallowed hard against the nausea that threatened. The smell and sight of blood wasn't unfamiliar, but that didn't make the prospect of what they might find any easier to face.

_We could simply call 911 again. Leave an anonymous tip,_ he thought, but shook his head. _No. We promised the boy. We've got to see this through. _

He pulled into the alley next to the old warehouse, parking a good way down from the door he'd need to enter, and unbuckled his seatbelt.

"Wait here," he said.

Donatello's head jerked up. "Leo…"

"Donny." Leonardo held up a hand to cut off the protest. "It could be a trap of some kind. I need you and Raph to watch my back, in case something goes wrong."

_In case I find him._

"Leo, I can't let ya go in there alone," said Raphael.

Leonardo shook his head. "I've got to, Raph," he said, meeting his brother's amber gaze. "Please. I need you guys out here… watching out." _I need you to look after Donny. To keep him from rushing in._

Raphael nodded slowly, reluctantly. "All right, Fearless. If dat's what you want."

"Thanks, Raph."

Leo slipped out of the van before Donatello could argue, ghosting down the alley. He drew a single katana as he approached the door. Only the distant sounds of the city, with its constant hum of traffic and sirens, broke the silence that lay heavy in the darkness.

Leo reached out, pushing the door open with one hand. The place was cool, musty and dim. A sharp, metallic scent met Leo as he stepped inside, making his stomach turn. He breathed deliberately through his mouth, but the unavoidable coppery flavor of blood-scented air was missing. Pausing, he breathed in, trying to place the odd smell of the place.

_Ink!_

Leo shook his head, moving deeper into the warehouse. With even the traffic noises muffled, not even the scurry of rodents could be heard. The place was as dark and silent as a tomb.

_I can't leave without making _sure, thought Leo. _Don said the signal tracked here. _

Pulling a small flashlight from his belt, Leo completed a quick circuit of the warehouse. The dusty, vast space was empty except for a couple packing crates haphazardly stacked against one wall. One was covered with a heavy green tarp. Something about the disturbed way the tarp lay caught Leonardo's eye. He moved in that direction, cautious, suspicious.

The absolute quiet was beginning to grate on his nerves, so he gave in to impatience and sliced along the top of the tarp with one quick slice of his blade. It fell away, revealing a plain brown packing crate, identical to the others.

Leonardo scowled. He slid his katana back into its sheath, disgusted with the lack of results.

_Not that I _wanted_ to find his body, but how am I going to tell Donny I found _nothing?

A tiny flash of silver had him pausing, turning to examine the crate more closely. _That nail head looks… new._

Hope and horror warred in his gut as Leo pulled out his sword once more. He swung precisely, with just enough force to break the wood holding the crate closed. The front of the crate fell to the floor, raising a small dust storm with a _crash_.

Leo yanked the flashlight out of his belt once more, shining it into the pitch-black space before he could think about what he was about to see. A faint _movement, _and an even fainter whimper startled him so badly he nearly dropped the light.

"Isamu?" His throat felt as though it would close, and tears blurred his vision. He blinked them away, kneeling to peer into the corner of the crate where he'd seen a flash of color. "Buddy, is that you?"

A tiny figure _pelted_ out of the darkness, and Leonardo found tiny arms wrapped so tightly around his neck it was difficult to breathe.

"Don-tello!" The little boy's shoulders where shuddering, shaking against the Turtle as if he would break apart. "Don-tello!"

"Isamu!" Leo wrapped his arms around the boy, cradling him against his plastron and standing up.

"It's ok, little guy. It's all going to be ok now." Tears streamed down Leonardo's cheeks, and he let them fall, unashamed. "Come on, Buddy. Donny's waiting."


	72. Chapter 71 Miles to Go

**A/N: Sorry to (sort of) plagiarize great literature with my title for this, the last chapter, but I have always loved Frost. And I'm a Lit major. So sue me. lol**

_**The woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
But I have promises to keep,  
And miles to go before I sleep,  
And miles to go before I sleep.**_

_**-Robert Frost**_

**PS, about yesterday's chap... Oh come on, did you REALLY think I'd let Masaru murder Isamu? o_o  
**_**  
**_

* * *

**Chapter 71 ~**_**Miles to Go~**_

Splinter's brush hovered over the page. He paused, glancing at his students to see if they were watching, before making the slow, delicate stroke. The bristles scratched lightly against the paper as Lucille, Janey and Austin all attempted to mimic his movement. He noticed with interest that Janey's flower was the most accurate.

"Well done, Janey-san," he remarked with a smile.

Her cheeks flushed, but she looked up with a pleased smile. "Thank you."

Austin's hand trembled slightly, and she lay the brush aside with a sigh. Though her expression was controlled, Splinter saw the grief clearly in the tense set of her shoulders. Leonardo's phone call, early in the morning, had left her shaken. The news of her grandfather's death had come as a shock, though Splinter had broken it as gently as he could.

_Miyomoto-san was an honorable man_, he thought sadly. _His final act was in defense of his son. It is clear Austin looked up to him. I only hope that in time her grief will be replaced by the happier memories of her time with him._

He couldn't help glancing at Janey. She was leaning over to admire Lucille's efforts, smiling in a relaxed way, but the ephemeral translucence of her skin and her too-bright eyes made it appear to Splinter as if she were already more than half spirit.

"_Meeting is only the beginning of separation",_ thought Splinter sadly. _I fear, Janey-san, that we have met only long enough to regret that we must part so soon. _

Lucille chose that moment to look up, meeting his gaze, and he felt her chi brush his spirit as strongly as a summer sun warming his fur.

_If I could ease this grief, Lucille-san, I would,_ he thought.

Luci's sad smile made his breath catch. _She has a way of knowing what I am thinking. How is this possible, that a woman like Lucille should even consider…_ _And yet, love knows no law greater than itself. _

"I… I think I've painted all I can for today, Sensei. Thank you for the lesson," said Austin suddenly, sitting up. She set her brush aside, forcing a smile.

"All right, _musume_," said Splinter.

Lucille watched Austin as the younger woman rose, turning away from the table. Austin left the room quickly, and Splinter caught the faintest of sniffs as the door closed behind her.

"Oh dear. I'm afraid Kazuo's death is quite hard on Austin," said Janey softly. "She loved her grandfather. Maybe I should talk to her." She moved as if to stand but Lucille put a gentle hand on her wrist.

"I'll go, Janey. You sit, and paint." Luci smiled.

Splinter heard the thought as clearly as if she'd spoken it aloud.

_Janey needs to rest. She shouldn't get emotional. _

"Perhaps, Janey-san, you would like to learn the next technique," he suggested. "To add leaves to your flowers."

"I… I'd like that. Thank you, Splinter," said Janey, subsiding. "If you're sure, Luci?"

"I am. Sit. Paint," said Lucille with a warm smile. She glanced at Splinter, thanking him with a look.

He gave her a slight nod, and she left the room.

"For the leaves, Janey-san, you simply make the petal-stroke, and lift the edge, like this," Splinter instructed, demonstrating.

Janey's brow furrowed slightly in concentration as she copied his stroke, forming a delicate leaf with her brush.

"You are quite talented," said Splinter, admiring the flower Janey'd painted.

She smiled. "I used to paint a bit, years ago," she said sadly. "I'm afraid I've been too tired lately, to hold a brush for very long. Thank you, for teaching us."

"It is an honor," said Splinter, laying his own brush aside. He had the feeling Janey's energy was waning, and the lesson was over for now.

"Splinter, may I ask you a very personal question?" asked Janey.

He glanced at the woman, startled. Her manner had become more relaxed with him, to the point that she no longer flinched when he looked at her directly or pulled away if he happened to brush against her, though he avoided close contact for the most part.

"Certainly, Janey-san," he replied politely.

She smiled, shaking her head. "I have found that illness has left me with very few reservations," she said. "I'm less inhibited than I have ever been before."

Splinter nodded in understanding, but remained silent, waiting.

Janey leaned slightly forward. "Forgive me, Splinter, you certainly don't have to answer if you don't want to but I'm wondering… Do you… do you remember the change? Do you remember what it was like, going from… from a normal rat to… to what you are today?"

Splinter went still. He looked up, studying her face. He saw a faint wariness there, the anxiety, but there was something more… curiosity, certainly, but under that, something akin to desperation. He'd seen the look before, in his son's eyes, when they came to him with veiled questions.

_Sensei, do you think it's possible a human woman could ever… I mean…_ Donatello, as an awkward teenager, soon after their first meeting with April.

He'd assured his son at the time, uncertain even as he spoke the words, that it could be possible that one day someone might see beyond their green skin and shells to the hearts beating with such passion and loyalty. He'd spoken, for the very first time, against his own deeply-held belief that they would never be truly accepted by humans, out of pity, out of love for his son and the pain and longing he'd seen so clearly etched in the boy's eyes. Of course, April's age relative to his sons', and her tendency to view them as annoying-but-adored younger brothers, had precluded any relationship that might have developed otherwise, and in time the boys had come to accept the reality that they would likely never find life-mates... until Michelangelo had met Austin, breaking an entire new dimension of reality wide open to the Turtles.

Now, Janey's question settled into his mind, and he pressed deeper, trying to understand the reason for it.

_What is it that you want to know, Janey-san?_

"My memories of that time are… not clear," he said at last.

Janey nodded, slight disappointment pursing her mouth. "I see."

"I do know, Janey-san, that I was… different, before the transformation," said Splinter carefully. "I… did not have the knowledge I have now. I was not able to… understand many things. I knew only the instincts that kept me alive. Everything else… emotion, reason, were like faint voices calling from far away. I could hear them, but not discern them."

Janey watched him, fascinated. "It must have been so strange," she said faintly. "So frightening."

He nodded. "It was, at first. I did not know what was happening to me. I was confused. Everything was strange and new. But there is a proverb, '_Only by reason of having died, does one enter life._'"

"I've heard it another way," said Janey, nodding. "'Only by dying may one live.'"

"Indeed. In a sense, the creature that I was before had to die, in order to become what I am now."

"I see." Janey shifted in the chair. "I'm… not afraid to die, Splinter." She met his eyes directly, and he saw the truth of it there. "I just wonder… what it will be like. And I… I worry about Austin. She'll be all right, won't she? After I'm gone?"

"In time, Janey-san," said Splinter quietly. "She loves you, and your passing into the next world will cause her grief. Lucille as well."

"Yes." Janey smiled sadly. "But Luci has always been able to take care of herself. She's taken care of both of us, our whole lives. I know she'll miss me, but I've become a burden, these past few months."

"The weight of a loved one is light to carry," Splinter answered softly.

"Perhaps, but Splinter… I'm tired." Janey clasped her hands before her on the table, her paper-thin skin wrinkling slightly, the veins showing clearly underneath. "I'm so tired. Sometimes I just want to lie down and sleep and drift. I'm… I'm ready, when the time comes. This past week, seeing Austin again, meeting little Skylar, and you and Michelangelo…" She smiled again, and it softened the gauntness of her face. "It's a relief, knowing that when I'm gone, Austin will be looked after, protected. I can be at peace, knowing my little girl is safe and loved."

"You have my word of honor, Janey-san," said Splinter.

She nodded, accepting the promise, and lifted her gaze to his face once more. "Splinter, I must ask one more thing of you."

"If there is anything I can do, Janey-san, it would be an honor," he answered.

"Look after Luci for me."

Splinter went still.

Janey smiled. "I know I have no right to ask, but Austin will be her only living relative. Our parents passed away when we were very young, Splinter, and then she lost Robert as well. We've been on our own, Luci and I, for a long time. When I'm gone, she'll be alone." A single tear traced down the woman's cheek. "I can't bear the thought. I'm… I'm not afraid, to go by myself, but Luci… I don't want to leave her alone."

"Lucille-san will always have a place with your daughter's family, Janey-san," said Splinter. She looked at him expectantly, and he found himself going on. "She will always have a place with me."

The woman's smile was brilliant. For an instant, Splinter could believe that she was young, vibrant and healthy as she must have been before her illness.

"I am… so happy for her," said Janey. She reached out, cautiously, across the table, laying a hand over Splinter's with barely a shiver. "Thank you, Splinter."

"I am honored, Janey Abramson-san," he said, fighting back the sudden burning sensation behind his eyes.

Janey nodded, seeming content to accept the promise. Her smile faded, and she was once more the frail, tired woman he'd first met.

"I think I would like to lie down before supper," she said softly.

"Perhaps it would be best," said Splinter gently. "Michelangelo plans to prepare a holiday meal. My son can be quite... enthusiastic in the kitchen."

Janey smiled. "Yes. Thanksgiving dinner. A bit early perhaps, but…" She let the sentence fall unfinished.

_But death comes to us all, and I fear, Janey-san, that life is but a lamp-flame in the wind,_ thought Splinter sadly.

"Would you mind terribly, helping me?" she asked.

Splinter nodded, surprised and pleased by the woman's new level of trust. He stood, going to her side as she rose, and putting a tentative arm around her waist. She moved without the trembling tension she'd displayed before, allowing Splinter to lead her to her bedroom. He supported her surprisingly light frame as she made her way to the bed, holding her hand to help her keep her balance when she sat on the edge of the mattress.

Janey lay back, closing her eyes with a sigh, and Splinter covered her gently with a blanket.

"Thank you, Splinter," she murmured.

"You are welcome, Janey-san."

Her breathing was deep, slow and even, as he made his way out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

As he came into the living area, Lucille rushed out of the dining room, looking anxious.

"Janey?"

"She is resting."

"Oh, thank heavens. When I came out and she was gone, I was afraid…" Luci let out a heavy sigh and sank down onto the couch. "I was afraid those awful ninjas had returned."

Splinter shook his head. "Leonardo assures me that Karai gave her word."

"And you believe her, even though she's the head of this enemy clan?" asked Lucille.

"I do."

"I suppose if I can't put my faith in the honor of a ninja, I can't put it anywhere," said Luci, half to herself.

"Karai does understand honor," said Splinter quietly. "You will not be bothered again, Lucille."

Luci nodded. "I believe _your_ word, Splinter," she said. "Austin is sleeping, too." She nodded toward the hall leading to the guest rooms. "She lay down with Skylar. Michelangelo said he'd stay with them."

"Good. Janey-san is resting also."

"She let you help her to bed?" asked Luci.

"Yes."

"Amazing. I knew she'd come around. Janey always was a spunky kid, even when we were girls. I… I don't know what I'll do without her."

Lucille's voice was quiet, but Splinter heard the raw, rending grief as clearly as if she'd shouted. He moved to the couch, sinking down on the cushion next to her.

"'Human life is like the dew of the morning'," he quoted.

Luci smiled. "Yes. Far briefer than we'd like to imagine sometimes, but so beautiful in the sun. And Janey's has been rich, in part thanks to you. I know she appreciates knowing Austin is going to be taken care of."

"She worries for you as well, Lucille-san," said Splinter.

"She… said that?" Luci turned toward him, instinctively reaching for his hand. He took hers, cupping her fingers comfortably in his palm.

"She loves you, Lucille."

"And I love her." Luci's voice sounded so small, so lost, Splinter squeezed her hand gently.

Luci's smile was strained. "I expect I'll manage," she said softly.

"Lucille-san." Splinter hesitated, uncertain, but Luci was looking at him now, questioning, faintly apprehensive.

_I was so foolish, to try to return her token,_ thought Splinter sadly. _I would not have gladly caused her this anxiety. _

"Your sister made a request of me."

"Oh?" Luci's grip tightened slightly on his hand.

"She wished that you should not be alone," he explained.

"Oh. Oh, Splinter, I'm sorry. She should not have placed a burden on you like that…"

"Lucille-san. You are no burden to me."

Recognition of her own words repeated back dawned in her eyes, and she chuckled. "Very well then. What did you tell her?"

"I told Janey-san that you would always have a place with Austin's family," said Splinter. He met Lucille's troubled gaze. "And with me."

Her brown eyes softened and filled with tears. "Oh, Splinter. I… I don't know… what to say."

"Perhaps, Lucille-san, you need not say anything," said Splinter gently. "When Austin returns home, if you are willing, perhaps you could… accompany her. We would be most honored by your presence."

"You mean you want me to come to the City after… after Janey…" Lucille drew a deep, shuddering breath. "Thank you, Splinter. This house… this place, has been my home for a long time."

An aching twinge of regret tugged at Splinter's chest.

"But… but I think, when I am alone, when the house is quiet and empty…" Tears slid down Lucille's cheeks. "That I will be ready to move on. Before we left the city, I picked up a real-estate directory. There was a darling little apartment, not far from your friend April's building."

Splinter stared, and Lucille smiled faintly. "I… wasn't sure, at the time, if I were being presumptuous, but I liked the idea of living nearby, so I might see Austin now and then… And I won't pretend it wasn't also so I might see more of _you_."

"I hope, Lucille-san, that you will consider our home as your own," said Splinter.

Luci nodded. "Thank you, Splinter. Janey won't need me much longer." The tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks. Splinter reached up, gently brushing them away with his finger. Luci closed her eyes, turning her cheek against his palm.

"I will wait for you, Lucille-san. I give my word of honor."


	73. Epilogue

**A/N: Well, it got away from me a bit, topping out at over 70 chapters, but I hope it was worth it. Splinter has been an amazing character to write, and I have learned more writing this fic I think than anything else I've done before. I can't give enough credit, thanks and hugs, to my two amazing beta-readers, Melody Winters and DuckiePray.**

Thanks also to GoddessHanyuu, for help with translations. Any spelling and translation mistakes in the text are entirely my fault. She did her best. :)  


**Thanks to reviewers are at the end, as always. :)  
**

******Friends... this will likely be my last fiction for a while... probably until the fall. I will be posting a one-shot sometime this week, a fluffy little Splinter/Luci song-fic, but then I really must focus on my own commercial fiction, nonfiction and college work for a while.  
However, I have no plans to abandon Fanfiction dot net. I will still be reading your many amazing fictions, and I will be writing over the summer. I hope to have _Hero's Return_ ready to start posting in the fall. Until then, _saraba_ (farewell), for now.  
Happy writing!**  


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_**Epilogue ~Three months later~**_

The feeling of anticipation had been building in the Lair for hours.

_I wonder if the lack of festivities around the Christmas holiday have made this an even more extraordinary occasion,_ thought Splinter, amused, as he watched his sons and daughters-in-law scurry about.

"Do you think we need more balloons over here?" asked Sierra over her shoulder.

Michelangelo nodded. "And another streamer… to match this side."

"Don't you think that's a bit of overkill, Mikey?" asked Don, grinning.

"Nah, you can never have too many streamers," answered Mike, climbing down from the ladder he'd been standing on to help Sierra with the decorations.

"Ann, you _know_ ya shouldn't be stretching like that," scolded Raphael, rushing to his wife's side as she reached up to place the corner of the painstakingly hand-lettered sign.

"Oh, honestly, Raph, I'm pregnant, not crippled," Ann fussed.

The red-banded Turtle took the sign from her hand. "Go, sit."

"Honestly." Ann shook her head, but made her way over to the couch. She glanced at Splinter, who was sitting calmly in his armchair with Kouki's shell cradled against his stomach. The Turtle tot was watching the proceedings silently, wide-eyed.

"Will Austin be back soon?"

"Yes, Ann."

"I bet Luci will be happy to see you again." Ann leaned back into the cushions, watching Raphael. "You're hanging it crooked, hon. A little higher on this side."

"It is always good to spend time with friends," said Splinter, though his heart lurched at the mention of her name. It had been three long months since he and Michelangelo had left Lucille's home. Austin had stayed longer, wanting to spend as much time as possible with her mother. It had turned out to be a wise choice. Only a week after the mutants departed, Janey Abramson had passed peacefully in her sleep.

Austin remained in New Jersey for the funeral service and traditional cremation ceremony before returning home, but recently she'd traveled back to New Jersey several times to help her aunt clean out the little house in preparation for her move to the City. This was the first time Lucille had come to the city since her sister's passing.

"It seems to me you two were a bit more than just friends," said Ann.

"I promised Janey-san that she would always have a place with Austin's family," said Splinter mildly.

Ann glanced at him and chuckled. "Whatever you say, Master Splinter."

"Indeed." Splinter smiled.

The sound of the elevator descending had the room pausing, freezing in place. The doors slid open, revealing a red-headed woman carrying an enormous sheet-cake. The man behind her was so loaded down with brightly-colored bags and boxes, it was a wonder he could see where he was going.

A chorus of "Hi, April's" rang out, interspersed with "Hi, Casey's".

"Li'l help here, Raph," called Casey, muffled behind his burden.

"Whatsa matter, Case? Can't handle it?" Raphael grinned broadly, but relieved his friend of most of his load.

"I t'ink Ape bought out half da store," grumbled Casey good-naturedly.

"Oh hush," scolded April. She disappeared into the kitchen, and returned without the cake. "I just set it on the counter. Is that ok, Mikey?"

"Perfect, Ape, thanks. Hey, Donny, hold this ladder for me, will you?"

"Hello, Master Splinter," said April with a warm smile. "Ann, how are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," said Ann. "In spite of my husband's fussing."

"Ya gotta take it easy, Annie," said Raph gruffly, standing up from depositing the load of packages on a small table set up for the purpose.

"I _am_ taking it easy. And that sign is still crooked," grumbled Ann, but she was smiling.

"Dis is quite da shindig, huh?" remarked Casey, grinning. "When're we gonna get dis party started? I'm starvin'."

"As soon as the guest of honor arrives," returned Ann. "But if you're hungry, Casey, Michelangelo has a huge tray of snacks on the table in the kitchen."

"Cool, thanks."

April shook her head as the man disappeared toward the promised food. "Honestly, he's a bottomless pit."

"He's no worse than the rest of them," returned Sierra, coming over to join the little group. "We're so glad you could come, April."

"We're honored that you've invited us. So, will Austin and Luci get here in time for the party?"

"They should arrive at any moment," Leonardo answered, sliding an arm comfortably around his wife's waist.

Kouki shifted on Splinter's lap, leaning forward and stretching his arms toward April.

"Ahhhh!" he declared solemnly.

"Well, hello, Kouki." April knelt down. "May I, Master Splinter?"

"Of course, April." Splinter relinquished the baby.

The woman gathered him up with a smile. "Hey there little guy. How are you?"

Kouki reached up, winding his fingers into her hair and tugging experimentally. He patted her cheek with his other hand, exploring her face as if fascinated.

"He's so much like his dad," said April.

"He really is." Raphael grinned. "He likes ya, Ape."

The woman shot Raph a glare, and Splinter chuckled.

"He does seem to have an… affinity for you, April," he said.

April glanced at Splinter, startled, and grinned ruefully. "Not you, too."

"I think none of us will ever let Donny live down his teenage crush," said Leonardo.

"Wait, you mean Don had a crush on _April_?" asked Sierra.

"I think we all did, at one time 'r another," said Raphael. He settled on the couch next to Ann, sliding an arm comfortably around her shoulders. She turned to look at him, one eyebrow rising.

"Aw, come on, Annie." Raphael laughed. "We were teenagers, an' she was da first girl we evah met."

"Thankfully, my sons were far too young for Miss O'Neil, and I am blessed to have her as another daughter," said Splinter calmly, eliciting a deep blush from April.

"All right, if you're all quite _through_," she said, pretending annoyance.

"Yeah. She's _my_ babe, an' don't any o' you mooks evah forget it," joked Casey Jones, sidling up to her.

Splinter chuckled. The light-hearted teasing made it easier for him to suppress the anxiety that was threatening to rise up. So many questions had troubled his attempts at meditation, but one made concentration impossible.

_What if she has changed her mind? _

He shook his head. _Worry only invites trouble. I must be prepared to accept whatever Fate brings._

The elevator rumbled once more, and the assembled company turned expectantly. Austin stepped out, carrying Skylar. Splinter stood up as a second figure followed her into the room, but to his slight disappointment, it was not Lucille, but Beverly.

"Look who I found," said Austin, smiling.

Leonardo went across the room to meet his sisters-in-law. He gave Austin a bow of greeting before turning to Beverly. She smiled brilliantly, shifting the bundle in her arms to her other hip.

"Isamu," she said softly. "Wake up."

A very sleepy little boy lifted his head, blinking.

"Le-o?" he murmured.

"Hi, Buddy," said Leonardo. "Come on in. How'd it go, Bev?"

"We're official, Leo. The judge signed the papers. He's ours."

"Congratulations, Sis."

"Thanks."

"I'll be right back, Leo. Could you take Skylar for a moment?" asked Austin.

"Of course."

Leonardo gathered his niece into his arms, and put his free arm around Beverly's shoulders, guiding her into the main room where everyone waited.

"Hey, big guy," said Mikey, waving to Isamu.

"Here, Mike." Leo passed Skylar to her father.

She squealed, grabbing his mask tail.

"Thanks, Bro." Michelangelo grinned widely and bumped noses with his daughter. "You had a long trip with Mommy, didn't you, Sky?"

"Donny?" Leonardo looked expectantly to his younger brother.

Donatello nodded. He went to April, who held out his son. Taking Kouki gently, he came to stand next to Beverly. The pair faced the family, beaming proudly.

The elevator doors slid open once more, and Austin hurried into the room, holding one end of a rather large package. Lucille followed closely, puffing slightly.

"Sorry, everyone," she said. "I'm afraid Austin's choice of gift was a bit more awkward than I'd anticipated."

"I hope you don't mind, Donny," said Austin, a little shy. "Mother bought this rocking horse for me when I was a girl. I thought the children would enjoy it."

"I know they'll love playing on it, Austin," said Donatello.

"It seems appropriate," said Lucille, helping Austin set the horse down. "That it should bring joy to your new family, as it did to you as a child, Austin."

"Thanks, Aunt Luci."

Splinter's breath caught as Luci met his gaze. Beside her, Austin smiled. She took Lucille's hand, and led her over to the Rat.

"Sorry, Splinter. I didn't mean to keep her away for so long," she said with a grin.

"You traveled well, Lucille-san?" asked Splinter.

"'A journey of a thousand miles is like one, to he who travels for love'," she responded.

"Awwwwww."

Splinter glared at Michelangelo, who had the grace to blush, but Lucille giggled, dissolving his annoyance with his son.

"Now that we're all assembled," said Leonardo, smiling. "Shall we begin?"

"Yes, my son." Splinter nodded.

"Donny," said Leo, turning to his brother. "This family has changed and grown so much. From the time we met April," He turned, nodding to their friend. "To Mikey bringing Austin home for the first time…" Leonardo gave his sister-in-law a smile, and Splinter's heart swelled with pride.

_Our family _has_ changed and grown,_ he thought. Reaching over, he took Lucille's hand into his own. She glanced at him, and smiled, squeezing his fingers warmly.

"Today, the family is growing again," continued Leo. "We've come together, as family and friends, to welcome into our clan a son. Don, when you first brought Isamu home, I thought he didn't belong here." He met his brother's eyes steadily. "I was wrong. He does belong here. He's one of us now, and we pledge, as a family, to do whatever you need us to do in supporting you and Beverly in raising both your boys." He put one hand on Donatello's shoulder, and brushed the other lightly over the little boy's head.

Isamu looked uncertainly at Donatello, then back to Leonardo.

"Le-o?"

Leonardo nodded. "Welcome to the family, Isamu Hamato."

Splinter felt Lucille shift beside him. He watched as Raphael and Michelangelo stood. Raphael approached first.

"Yeah, Donny. We're family, no matter what," he said gruffly. "An' dat goes fer you, too, little guy." Raphael ruffled the boy's hair, eliciting a giggle.

"Raph-el."

Beverly nodded, tears standing in her blue eyes.

"That's right. Uncle Raphael," she said softly into the boy's ear.

Raph stepped back and Michelangelo approached. "Just remember, Micro-dude, I'm the _best_ uncle." He grinned, before turning to Don.

"Ya done good, Donny."

"Thanks, Mike."

Michelangelo stepped back, and Donatello slid his free arm around Beverly's waist. "Thanks, all of you. Adopting Isamu wasn't an easy choice, but," he glanced at Bev. "I know it was the right one. We couldn't have asked for a better family."

He looked to his father expectantly, and Splinter smiled. He made his way to the young family. Donatello's expression was a mixture of joy and shy pride. Beverly leaned down, presenting Isamu to Splinter.

"My son." Splinter laid his hand on Donatello's arm. "And my grandsons." With his free hand, he brushed a palm over Isamu's dark hair. "You have brought me much joy."

"Sp-intah!" Isamu grinned widely. He pointed. "Mrs. Ap-il. Casey. See-ra. Lu-ci. Ann. Raph-el. Mi-ey. Aw-stin. Le-o," he recited.

"Your family, Isamu-kun," replied Splinter smiling.

"Thank you, Father," said Donatello, bowing a bit awkwardly with Kouki still perched on his arm. The Turtle boy giggled, reaching for Splinter's whiskers.

"Let's get this party started," suggested Michelangelo, grinning widely. "I made your favorite, Micro-dude! Chocolate cake!"

"Cake?" Isamu perked up considerably, grinning. He twisted to look at Beverly, then Don. "Kouki cake, too? An' Sky-ar?"

"You got it." Michelangelo beamed.

"Now, Mikey, don't go filling them up with sugar…" Donatello protested, but Splinter saw his mouth quirking in a grin.

The family surged almost as a unit toward the kitchen. Only Lucille and Splinter remained in the main part of the Lair.

"Are you coming, Sensei?" asked Leonardo over his shoulder.

"In a moment, my son," replied Splinter with a smile.

Leo nodded and disappeared into the noisy fray.

Lucille chuckled, making her way over to him.

"Splinter. It is so good to see you."

"Lucille."

"You have an amazing family, Hamato Splinter-san," she said softly.

"We are most fortunate," he replied. On a reckless impulse, he held out his hand. "Will you join us, Lucille-san?"

She paused only a heartbeat before a smile grew, lighting her face so that the lines of strain and grief melted away. She slipped her hand into his, her palm fitting neatly against his own. "I would be honored."

* * *

**A/N: This... has been quite a ride. This fic was a year in the making... and might not have happened at all without the encouragement of the readers and reviewers who made this series such a joy to write. ****I doubt I can truly do Splinter justice with my limited skills, but I hope that in some alternate reality where Heroes exist, that he will accept this as a tribute, and smile.**

**_Doomo arigato gozaimasu, _Thank you so very incredibly much, to my amazing beta readers, DuckiePray and Melody Winters. These gals have been with me every step of the way, supporting, encouraging, cajoling, and in general just being awesome supporters and friends. I am blessed, and honored, to exchange beta with them both, and to call them my friends.**

**Be sure to look up Duckie's amazing series, beginning with _Of Hope and New Faces_, and soon to continue with _Refuge_. And look for Melody Winter's upcoming Splinter origins fic. Beta-reading her story strongly influenced my view of Splinter, and though I didn't think it was possible, made me adore the Rat even more.**

**Finally:  
"_Pleasant words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the bones_."  
-Proverbs 16:24**

**So, thanks to all those who took the time to read and review and make this fic so incredibly satisfying to complete:**

**_DuckiePray_ for the first review, the first read as one of my epic beta-readers, and for... well everything. For being an amazing author and a good friend. There will always be room in the bomb shelter for you. ;)  
_GoddessHanyuu _for such nice reviews and for help with translations and spelling of Japanese words. Enjoy Japan and return to us safely! :)  
_Official Aburame Shino _for foreshadowing with "DUN DUN DUNNNNN" LOL And refusing to forgive me. ;)_  
ice around the moon _for "Looks like Isamu has found a new mommy aka Raph" which near made me fall out my chair giggling. o.o LOL_  
SmileyDJingles _for looking forward to this story_  
Reinbeauchaser _for neglecting her virtual animals to read ;)_  
Pinguin1993 _for reading, and for creating such a fascinating AU universe in her own fics... Update soon! :D_  
candelight _for lighting the way. *hugs Sister-friend. _  
Leonardo1885 _for cracking ribs laughing at Mikey. ;)_  
It's Lazy Mel (Melody Winters) _For hours of reading, ranting, laughing... For everything. Love you, Girl.  
_BlackShuriken _for reading and reviewing _  
SilverDragonStar _for a thoughtful review_  
Sasami1 _for a nice review_  
sweetprincipale _for reviewing :)_  
Ramica _for coming along for the ride. _  
mariarosa _for excitement :)_  
Scotia60 _for enjoying seeing Hun tormented_  
Laughter's Tears _for such nice reviews_  
Amy Hamato _for wanting to cuddle Splinter... awwww :)_  
Peachy-Keen _for making me laugh with her air violin. ;)_  
Fyrefly _for stopping by. :)_  
ZathuraRoy _for being happy for the Hamatos. :)_  
TigerToa _for calling Splinter a "fantastic patriarch" AMEN, sister._  
Allithea _for "we need some trouble"... Hope you got enough! :)  
_LeonardoMystic_ for liking Leo/Sierra fluff and calling Leo an a$$ for the way he acted toward Isamu, which made me smile. He really was... ;)  
_little red crayon _for random chats, sharing ice-cream, and keeping Mikey entertained so I could write. ;)  
_artychick7 _for wanting more violence. LOL_  
Reepicheep22 _for reading and reviewing :)_  
AlyssaFelixa _for hearts, exclamations and excitement :)_  
graad _for nice reviews :)  
_Kyaserin Marii _for finding time to read. *hugs* Kat.  
_Margui _for reading and reviewing :)_  
Linzerj _for "almost" feeling sorry for Hun  
_christi_ for calling me "evil" Thank you! LOL ;)  
_Greenhemoglobin_ for "Splinter's got the fever!" which made me LOL  
_Scribe of Turesa _for reading and reviewing.  
_chips and ice-cream_ for wanting a parachute :)  
_beastwarsmaster_ for guessing Ann was preggers.  
_Espree_ for offering Don advice for dealing with parents ;)  
_CourtneyLReed _for wanting more focus on Raph and Ann  
_Meganechan720_ for recommending an awesome book, The Mixed up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankwieler :D  
_Soului_ for a thoughtful review  
_StormOftheWinter'sEye_for being sad over Isamu. :(**


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